A Change of Pace
by Atren Graves
Summary: [Indefinite Hiatus] When Taylor went into the locker, she drew the attention of two beings. One offered an absent thought, and a broken tool that wasn't even meant for her. The other took a more personal approach.
1. A Short Forward

A/N: Right, so, here's this thing. It's been up on the Spacebattles Creative Writing forum for awhile, but I figured I don't get enough use out of this account and a potentially wider range of viewership is always appreciated.

Some general info (Powers, charms, etc) will be going up in my profile, eventually. And as another note, transferring this stuff wrecked my formatting. So any complaints there will be dealt with to the best of my ability as they arise.

I think that covers the important bits, though, so I won't carry on.

[EDIT]: RIGHT so, it would seem I should have thought through the 'adding of chapters' thing a bit more, because it seems the site sent out...quite a few email alerts.

To those of you that have me on your watch-lists...I apologize. Seriously. That's...that's on me. I'm going to have to look into a way to fix that, in the future.

...is editing this going to send out another alert. I don't even know at this point. If it does, just...sorry. Again.

*Sigh*

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Atrengraves


	2. Prologue

I nearly strangle myself in my sheets, falling out of bed.

Recognizing that they're _my_ sheets, _my_ bed, doesn't make it any easier to stop struggling. In fact, I don't stop until I've managed to free myself entirely. Then it's all I can do not to scream, because that...was it a nightmare? It can't have been. I can still feel the _garbage_ and the... _bugs_.

I stumble to my feet, and barely make it into the bathroom in time; my stomach is empty, but the dry-heaves are bad enough. _I'd thrown up in the locker, coughing and crying and hurting-_

"Ugh..."

The sink is busted. I wipe tears from my eyes as I try to get the tap running, but all I can really do is jiggle the knob and watch it _not work_. Which is...it's fine. It's _fine_ , it's not a problem. I'll just go to the kitchen. I'm not in the locker, it was a nightmare, so I can go to the kitchen and that's _**fine**_.

I open my bedroom door.

The hallway outside is ruined. Like part of the house has just been torn away. Along with...everything else beyond it. All that's left are a few floorboards hanging in the air where there's supposed to be a hallway, and...fog. And light. I close my eyes, and when I open them again, nothing's changed. No, that's not true. Now I can see one of the neighbors' houses, hanging in the emptiness outside.

"Okay."

I just...I just need to go to the kitchen. I just want some water. That's all. So I'll...go to the kitchen.

The floorboards don't move, or fall. I shuffle across them until I reach the stairs (because those are still there, that's good) then start down. The steps creak. It's too quiet.

There's a park where the rest of my house should be. I look up, but...it's still hanging there. I haven't left the stairs yet. I could just go back up and crawl into my bed and maybe, _maybe_ , when I wake up again things will make sense.

"Taylor Hebert."

I bite down on my scream, fall back against the stairs...there's a man there. _Floating_.

Now I know what's happening. It doesn't help. Because if this is a Cape, if all of _this_ is some kind of Parahuman _thing_ , then...then what?

"What's going on?" My voice shakes more than I'd like, but _what the fuck?_ "Who are you?" He's just _staring_ at me, and his eyes are _empty_ , and there's no place for me to hide-

"It's strange. I've heard those same questions a thousand times before." He gestures vaguely, but doesn't move from where he's...hovering. "They ask out of fear. Anger. Indignation. The same questions, the same feelings, again, and again, and again, but _this_ time...it's different. _This_ time...it's new."

I blink, and he's gone...but then there's movement in the corner of my eye and he's _sitting beside me_. I manage not to scream again, but it's a close thing; he watches, as I press myself into the railing, trying to keep away from him but there's only so far I can go-

"You're afraid of me, Taylor, but I'm not here to hurt you." His head tilts, as he watches me...watches. He's just watching. And talking. "You asked me who I am. I could answer that question. But I'm...curious. Who do you _think_ I am?"

"You..." Is this a good thing? Talking...talking is a good thing, yeah. Because if he's talking, he's not...I don't know, trying to kill me? And if he gets distracted, I could run. Except where would I run? Seeing as the world fell apart at some point. So...keep the creepy Parahuman occupied. Because this kind of bullshit is my life now, isn't it? "You're a Cape?" He blinks, slowly, and I struggle for something more to add. "You're, uh...I don't recognize you from anywhere, so you're...new to Brockton Bay?"

"I _am_ new to this place. It's new to me, as well." He stands and starts walking without a backwards glance. "Follow me."

Considering my other option is to sit here in crazy-sky-land, I pull myself together, stand up, and follow.

"These 'Capes' are of interest to me, but I'm not one of them. I don't weigh the lives or livelihoods of the men and women who live in this world, harming...or protecting...as I see fit. Neither am I one to join in others' games." He slows, just for a moment, and everything seems to _shift_. "Not directly, at least."

I flinch, as the park vanishes, replaced with...it looks like a street, floating bits of buildings giving the impression of skyscrapers. And there are people, none of them moving. Some are ducking for cover. Crying. Afraid. Others are looking to the sky...I look up.

"He's called 'Legend', and he's hailed as a hero." My 'guide' speaks up again. "He throws himself into his good works. Saving lives. Protecting those he cares for...but did you know he harbors doubts?" I swallow, look away from the brilliant lights frozen overhead. "He questions whether his actions are just. Whether his motives are as selfless as he claims. Whether or not his choices have been...'correct'."

"Aren't they?" Crap. I wince, but don't look away when he turns to _stare_ at me again. "He wants to help people...isn't that a good thing?"

"Perhaps." The street disappears, and I feel myself fall...I don't even have a chance to be afraid until _after_ I hit something solid. My legs go out from under me, and I just sit there for almost a minute. Try to stop _freaking out_ -

"She calls herself 'Shadow Stalker'." I flinch, try to stand and turn at the same time, nearly tripping over my own feet in the process. The Cape...no, he said he's not a Cape... _he_ is still there, along with a cloaked...woman? Girl? I can't tell, but the costume and name are enough to tell me she's a Parahuman too. "They call her a hero, as well." He looks at me, from his spot beside her, then turns his attention down to the alley below. "She saves those that she considers... _worthy_."

When he doesn't say anything more, doesn't move...I shuffle closer, step by step, until I can peer down over the edge of the roof.

My stomach flips. "Is that...?" No. This is...what? "What is this?" He doesn't say anything, watching me...and he doesn't stop me, when I move to the fire-escape. It rattles, as I climb down, floor by floor, and by the time I reach the ladder at the bottom I'm past hesitating at something like a ten foot drop.

I edge closer to the familiar figure. Around the looming thugs, until I can see her face. Until I confirm what I'd thought I'd seen before.

She's terrified, looking up at her attackers. The tip of the knife is pressed just beneath her eye. I can see it, depressing the skin there...

"And _this_...is Emma. You know her. But you didn't know _this_ , did you?"

I don't look at him, stepping closer...something cracks, and I wince as it cuts into my foot. It's a phone...Emma's phone. I pick it up. The screen is shattered, the words on the screen almost illegible.

I see my name.

"You didn't know that they threatened to take from her. To _hurt_ her. That they made her feel trapped, and fearful, and _weak_. That she wanted nothing more than to disappear." I see him moving around me, his attention never wavering. I can feel it, like a prickling...something. "There was no one to help her."

"But what about-" I look up, and...that hero is still up there. "If this...this is something that's already happened? Because I don't remember Emma being..." Hurt. _Damaged_.

"There was no one to help her... _until_ she fought back." I turn to meet his eyes. That blank look is starting to...grate. "And then she was _saved_ , and told she was _strong_. Isn't that interesting? This narrow definition of 'strength'. I've seen empires rise and fall for it. This flawed idea that can be so perfectly embodied...in single child."

The alley disappears, replaced by a hallway.

And a locker.

I look at myself. At Sophia Hess, pushing me forward as I gag.

At Emma, smiling as she watches.

"But isn't it a good thing to want to help others?" He's talking again...still talking. Still _calm_ and _even_. How is he so calm? I can hardly _breathe_. "To help them find their own strength?"

She's smiling.

"Even when strength is born from suffering?"

It clicks.

Suddenly, the world makes sense again.

 _And I hate it._

"That wasn't a dream." He doesn't respond. "I was really there. They locked me into that...Emma _put_ me in that locker. Because she...what, because she thought it would make me _stronger_?" Still nothing. I whirl on him, and I'm _angry_ , now. Angry enough that I don't care what he's doing, what his powers might be, why he's _still staring._ "The past year and a half they've done everything they could to make my life hell, and it was supposed to be for _my benefit_!?"

"In her mind."

"Well then she's _crazy_!"

Silence. And it's really difficult to hold onto that anger, with the silence. It's just too much effort. So...I don't bother. What's the point?

"...why are you showing me this stuff?"

"Because you were curious." He turns, and our surroundings shift again. Leaving us standing on a rooftop. I think it's downtown; I recognize a couple of these buildings. Or, at least, the parts that are actually here. "Because I wanted to know how you would react."

I can't find it in me to be upset. "Oh."

He looks at me, over his shoulder. "I am the Outsider. I've come here because you interest me, Taylor Hebert." I don't have a chance to respond, my breath going out of me as my hand starts to burn. I hiss, and clutch it close...catch sight of the glow just before it vanishes, leaving a jagged design etched into my skin. "This is my Mark."

"What the hell...?"

"You want explanations." He faces me again, lifting into the air. "Come find me."

And then he's gone, leaving me alone in the emptiness. I swallow down my fear, my confusion, my _anger_...look at the mark. The _mark_. I can feel it, and it feels like the sudden, thrumming pressure in my bones.

I know that if I wanted, I could be on _that_ rooftop instead of _this_ one.

'Come find me'.

Alright then.

I close my eyes-

And all I leave behind is ash.


	3. Chapter 1

_It's not music, but it's calming. Low, groaning tones that I can feel in my chest, sweeping up into lilting whistles. The answering chatter behind me is less comforting...but I think I'm getting used to it._

 _No smile, but I can hear the fondness. No eyes, but gaping pits leading down and down and down into the nothingness at the_ _ **cen**_ _te_ _ **r**_ _o_ _ **feverything.**_

" _Aren't you glad you looked behind you?"_

 _Behind me? Why would I look behind me? There's nothing-_

 _It moves, and whispers from a hundred mouths, and looks out from_ _ **a**_ _thousand eyes an_ _ **d**_ _there are li_ _ **m**_ _bs everywhere pluck_ _ **in**_ _g at the threads that t_ _ **i**_ _e me to the_ _ **st**_ _a_ _ **r**_ _s_ _ **a**_ _nd i_ _ **t**_ _is vast and br_ _ **o**_ _ken its t_ _ **r**_ _ue body_ _ **h**_ _idden in the sh_ _ **a**_ _dows it casts but I can see that it's there and it is_ _ **l**_ _ooking at me_ _ **p**_ _eering down a_ _ **si**_ _t r_ _ **ea**_ _ch_ _ **e**_ _s_ _ **out**_ _a_ _ **n**_ _d in_ _ **a**_ _n_ _ **d into**_ _m_ _ **e**_ _and_ _ **I**_ _-_

-twitch, in my seat. Lift my head.

"Glad to have you with us again, Taylor." Mr. Gladly's smile is forced, and fake. I really _hate_ that smile. "If you'd like to stay for the rest of class, I would appreciate it."

I can't find my voice yet, so I just nod. Ignore the snickers and mocking looks, as he turns his attention back to...the lesson, right. 'The impact of Capes on society'. Because we haven't covered this often enough yet. No wonder I was falling asleep.

No, that's not right. It's my own fault for not getting enough sleep. And for thinking I'd just 'rest my eyes'. That...that was just too much optimism.

It's still boring. 'Something, something, homework. Something, something, groups'. Everyone else seems excited about the idea. Distracted. That just means I'm the first one out the door when the bell rings. Moving as quickly as I can without drawing undue attention, I make my way up to the third floor.

The girl's bathroom. A month ago, I would have been eating lunch here. Which is actually just... _really_ sad, when I stop to think about it. I try not to. Because now it's just another good place to break line of sight. A place where some extra ash goes unnoticed.

I eat my lunches on the roof, now. Fresh air. Sunlight. It's nicer than the bathroom. Hell, it's nicer than the cafeteria. This...this is a pretty good day.

Still, I can't wait for it to be over.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Two weeks ago, I was still afraid of heights. It was a perfectly valid fear, and I'd still be justified for feeling it; everything else aside, I'm pretty sure I'd still go splat if I hit the ground. Now, though, I can't help but _enjoy_ the way my heart races and my stomach churns. Standing on the edge, twenty stories up, and I feel better than I could have possibly imagined. It makes me feel _real_.

The thought hits me, and I don't question it, or dismiss it out of hand. Instead...I act.

Wind tears my hood back, my hair flying free of its tie as I fall.

I have a little over ten seconds.

I don't reach five before I jerk to a painful stop.

"What the crap!?"

Alright. Apparently the painful-grabby-thing is also a confused-flying-person. I'd laugh, if she hadn't driven my breath away when she plowed into me.

"Hold on!" We're going down. That's not good. All my stuff is still on the roof. "Oh man, I didn't hurt you, did I!? I almost didn't even _see_ you!"

'Well, it's pretty dark out' is what I _try_ to say. All I actually _manage_ to do is cough, which doesn't seem to reassure her. That's fine, though, because I don't need to talk to remember the spot where I'd changed my clothes not five minutes ago. I shift to grab hold of my 'savior' as steadily as I can (more difficult than you'd think, when you're flying through the air), then gather my power and-

-teleport us both back up to the rooftop.

"Whoa!"

She drops me on my ass (par for the course), and I wheeze, flopping down on my back.

A blonde blur appears, and I spend a few moments blinking away involuntary tears in order to get a better look.

"...you weren't trying to kill yourself, were you?"

"Nope." Well, I can talk again. I guess that's a good thing. Not as good; Glory Girl standing over me, looking fairly unhappy with me. "Sorry."

She rolls her eyes, nudging me with the toe of her boot. "Tell me you're not a villain, at least."

"Not a villain." I nod, force myself to take a _deep_ breath and sit up. Flinch, only to realize that, no, she's not about to hit me, she's holding her hand out like that to help me up. And now I'm staring at her like an _idiot_.

I take the hand up, and step back for a second once I'm on my feet so I can brush myself off (and pull myself together). "Thanks for the...save? I guess?"

"Not that you needed it, apparently." She's...smiling, now. That's probably a good thing. "It was pretty awesome though, wasn't it?"

I probe at my side, grimace at the feeling. "My ribs might disagree."

And she heard that. Shit. Antagonizing the Alexandra-package isn't a smart thing to do...then again, maybe it is. I don't think she'd be laughing like that if she was upset.

"Okay, so I could have been a little more careful. But c'mon, you were, like, half-way to the ground!" She grins, waving toward the roof's edge. "I didn't exactly have time to finesse it, y'know?"

"R-right."

She shakes her head, and I do my best not to wilt under her sudden scrutiny. "So, uh...I don't think you're a complete newbie, considering you threw yourself off the _roof_. But you haven't been doing this very long, have you?"

Yeah, that's a fair assumption. Me, in my ratty sweatshirt and cloth mask...I didn't cannibalize a t-shirt or anything, sure, but it still looks like I put it together with a pair of scissors and blind luck. Compared to her whiter-than-white dress and golden tiara (which might be _real_ gold, for all I know), I'm a poster-child for DIY costumes. The ones that people laugh at, not the fancy stuff they feature in reality shows.

And I never answered her. _Stupid_. "A couple weeks. Barely."

"Awesome." She's _smiling_ again. It's _unnerving_. I'm seriously debating cutting my losses and just disappearing. "Get into any trouble yet? Something fun to share?" No chance to respond before she leans closer. "We can swap stories. I'll tell you about the time I punched Skidmark in the face!"

"...what?"

"Yeah, that was a weird day." She rocks back on her heels (thankfully), then lifts into the air and edges back a little further. "Hey, you kinda interrupted my night out. Why don't you tag along, see how the professionals get things done?"

I stare long enough for her to start giving me a weird look. Because on one hand, this was supposed to be 'me time', while on the other...well, gift horse.

"...Sure." I shrug, shifting uncomfortably for a second before just 'porting over to the big AC unit my stuff is hidden under. I don't really need to double-check that it's secure, but it'll give me a second to gather myself. Clothes? Still wadded up and stuffed in a bag. Glasses? Unbroken and safe in their case. Pepper-spray? Well, I might want that...

I tuck it away in my sweatshirt pocket, grab the aluminum bat I'd stowed under the bag, and make my way back to Glory Girl.

She's smirking. It's both calming and _irritating_ , and I'm not really sure how to react to that. "Sports fan?"

"I took it off an Empire thug." That had been my...third night out? It had really come in handy since then. "He wasn't using it anymore." Hopefully he's still in jail. Or prison? Wherever the police are putting the guys I've been leaving on their doorstep.

"Huh." She drifts to one side, eyeing me again. "You, uh...do you know Shadow Stalker, at all?"

"...no?"

"Go figure."

A moment of awkward silence. "So...are we going now?"

"Oh! Yeah, right." She shakes her head, turns to look toward the bay. "You gonna be able to keep up, d'you think?"

"I need a few seconds to recover when I teleport, but as long as you stay close to the rooftops... sure." I shrug, and shoulder the bat. "Lead the way."

She offers a slightly unsettling grin before taking off. I take a second to guess at her path, then move to intercept.

Maybe this'll be fun?


	4. Chapter 2

"How about 'Ghost'?"

"There are _three_ 'Ghosts' spread across the continental U.S."

"Okay, so mix it up a little. What about, I dunno...'Geist'?"

"You live in the same city as the Empire 88 and you're seriously suggesting that?"

"Um…"

"And on top of that, there's a Shaker named 'Geist' in Germany. I think he's the eighth Most-Wanted or something."

"Right, no-go on the German. Phantasm?"

"West-coast independent."

"Seriously? Ugh. This is why you need to join a team. PR consultants are _evil_ , but at least they're good at this stuff."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, and take a few moments to _deeply regret_ telling Glory Girl that I hadn't chosen a name yet. Or maybe I just regret not choosing a name in the first place. Either way, I'd really _love_ to not be dealing with this right now. I swear, she must have been working on this list for the past two days. "I've done my research you know." Most of it earlier today, granted, but the point stands. "I know my options, I just haven't...settled on one, yet."

She snorts, finally pops the tab of her soda. Despite her concerns, it doesn't fizz everywhere. I take that as a sign that my own is safe to open. "Alright, Miss Picky. What do _you_ have all lined up for yourself?"

Not as much as I would like. I take a long drink, totally not stalling at all…

"Vexation?"

"Pffft. 'Look out, it's _Vexation_ ' _!_ " She rolls her eyes. "Next."

"Crow."

"That _has_ to have been used. And if it hasn't been, there's probably a reason for that. Try again."

"If you're just going to shoot them all down…" Who's defensive? I'm not defensive. "Void-walker?"

"Eh...you _definitely_ need a different costume, then. 'Cause you can bet that some idiot on PHO is gonna call you out for 'ripping off' Shadow Stalker."

I hadn't really thought of that. Damn. "Superhero names are hard." I sigh, shake my head. "Whatever. It's not like I'm out to make a big splash or anything."

"Oh, trust me, it doesn't matter. If you don't pick a name, somebody is going to pick one for you. It might be okay, it might be god-awful, but either way you're stuck." She reaches over to nudge my shoulder. "You've got to be able to come up with _something_."

"You've got a lot of faith in my creative talent." I smile, and lapse into silence, enjoying the view, the cool wind.

"Yeah, well, what are friends for, y'know?"

... _huh_.

I take a deep breath, watch a car crawl along the street below. And, after a long moment, I set my soda down on the ledge beside me, rising to my feet and pulling up my hood. "Let's go beat up strangers in dark alleys."

"Do you have to put it that way?"

I teleport to the roof across the street.

"You know, I _paid_ for these drinks!"

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

I almost feel sorry for this guy. He watched three of his friends get tossed around like rag-dolls, barely dodged a flying _dumpster_ , and now it's finally sinking in that he's pointing a _tiny_ handgun at a girl that could probably juggle live hand-grenades without breaking a sweat.

"D-don't move! Don't...I'll...I'll shoot! I swear to God I'll shoot!"

Glory Girl just smiles, and touches down on the ground again. "Yeah, okay. No problem." Her attention shifts over his shoulder. "So, you said you were going to demonstrate."

Yeah, I guess this'll do.

The first part requires no more effort than my usual teleportation. Between one moment and the next, the entire block lights up in my perception, and my awareness stretches out to encompass a thousand little lives. With a vague gesture and a thought, I gather a cloud of flying bugs between me and the gunman; it's not enough to hide me from view, but it gives me one more layer of distraction in case he manages to actually react.

The next bit is a little more tiring. I take a deep breath and clench my fist, focusing on my _power_ and the feeling of _tiny claws prickling across my skin, bristling fur and feverish heat_...my breath goes out of me, for a moment, and a couple dozen rats scurry out of my sweatshirt and down my legs. It's a feeling I'm getting used to. Not sure whether that's a comfort or not...

Maybe I should focus on the idiot with a gun, though. I shake myself out and direct the rats at him before he can do more than turn around. They screech, and jump him. He starts screaming, as he drops to the ground. Once the gun is out of play, all I have to do is walk up and kick him in the stomach, drawing the rats off of him with half a thought and leaving him whimpering and harmless.

"Whaaaat the _hell_?" Glory Girl is ten feet off the ground, her expression a mixture of fascination and disgust. "You couldn't have _warned_ me you were about to do that? _Seriously_?"

"Hey, you told me you wanted a demonstration." I rub at my face, trying to ignore the irritating pressure that's been building for the past half hour. Using my power like this doesn't seem to be helping, but I can deal. "They're under control. You don't have to worry."

"Uh...right." She hovers lower, by degrees, _gingerly_ touching down...only to jolt back into the air with a shriek when one of the rats darts toward her again. "Holy- _Crow!_ "

I can't help it. I smile. "I thought you didn't like that name?"

"I need _something_ to call you! _Asshole!_ "

"I'm pretty sure that won't fly with the press."

"Ugh...it's like the second coming of Clockblocker tonight." She rubs her face, shudders, and levels a glare at me. "Seriously, just...get rid of those things."

I shrug, guide the rats into a regimented formation behind me. "They'll disappear in a minute." I _can_ dismiss the normal bugs, though, spread them out until they're practically invisible again. I do just that, and refresh my control of the rats while I'm at it. Just to be safe; they're vicious little things if I leave them alone.

That just leaves these guys...I don't think they're actually a part of any particular gang, but they were all armed and definitely waiting for someone to jump. Worth the effort, I think. "Are you going to call this in?" She's got a cell phone, which has been making contacting the authorities _much_ easier.

"Not much point this time." She crosses her arms irritably, and I feel a twinge of regret. Maybe the rat thing wasn't as funny as I'd thought. "No drugs, no automatic weapons...I wouldn't be surprised if one of these guys had a record, but I don't really feel like babysitting them while we wait for the cops to show up and sort them out."

...wait, what?

She heads for the roof, and I almost follow, stopping to wait the ten seconds or so it takes for the rats to start dissolving. _Then_ I follow her, breaking into a jog when I realize she's already flying ahead. "Hold on, we're just leaving them there?"

"Usually, beating them up is enough." She glances back, rolls her eyes, and darts over to the next roof before stopping. I'm at her side a second later, and she continues at a walking pace. "Discouraging, humiliating, and, y'know, it's a deterrent. Or it should be."

"Okay...I think I get that…"

"And we're not as 'official' as the Protectorate, so it's not like I can make actual arrests." She sounds pretty frustrated, and I guess that's fair. I'm not sure what I can offer for that, so I just keep quiet. "Oh, sure, I can offer a statement, and there's, y'know, legal stuff that makes that kind of thing work for independent heroes, but in the end, even if I dropped the jerks at the police station, half of them would probably walk."

…

"Is that, uh...really?"

"Yeah, it's ridiculous." She turns to face me, drifting lazily from side to side. "And then the _cops_ get mad because you're 'wasting their time', even though, y'know, if they were doing their _jobs_ , then _we_ wouldn't be out here cracking skulls."

Shit. "Uh, yeah...makes sense." I'm such an _idiot_. Going out a 'fighting crime', but I've got no idea what...I guess it doesn't matter, now. Even if most of the assholes I caught went free, I still stopped a lot of bad things from happening. Nothing to do about it now, so I follow Glory Girl up and across the street-

And now my ears are ringing. Which is _great_. Tonight is just _great_. "So...what's next?"

"Well, we could talk about the fact that your powers are teleportation, night vision, and, y'know, _creating rats and stuff to attack people with_." She drops back enough to poke me in the ribs. "'Cause that kinda came out of left field."

"It definitely hasn't helped with deciding on a theme."

She laughs, relaxing visibly. "Freaking grab-bag powers." That sounds like a 'no hard feelings' to me, which is a major relief. One problem down, one weird headache to go.

And, actually, "Can you hear that?"

"What?"

"That ringing." It's not just my ears, I'm pretty sure of that now. Or, at least, I don't _think_ it's just my ears. I'm pretty sure that when your ears ring, it's not...directional. "And...I'm not sure. It sounds kind of like creaking wood."

"Uh, _no_." She gives me a weird look, stops to listen for a second. "Yeah, I'm definitely not hearing anything."

That's...is that a bad thing? "Here, I think it's somewhere in that direction." I start walking, and she trails after me. "C'mon."

"Yeah, sure. We can check it out. No problem."

It's nice to know somebody doesn't mind putting up with me.

"Okay, seriously, it's been _two hours_. We've been going in _circles_ in the _docks_ , which is all kinds of potential trouble. And honestly? You're starting to freak me out, here."

It takes me a few seconds to actually respond. I'm too focused on the feeling in my head. The _sounds_. "I think...I think it's…" No, not there. Further. "I think I'm narrowing it down."

"That's what you said half an hour ago."

Did I say that? Maybe. I think I'm closer now. I'm adjusting. "This way."

"What-" I teleport, wince as the feeling _shifts_. I'm still working out directions when Glory Girl catches up. "Okay, that's getting really old. If you're just going to ignore me, I'm heading home."

I nod, absently. "Sorry." It's definitely...yeah. I think that's it. "That building."

"What about-"

There's no rooftop access. It's an old building, in obvious disrepair, but that's no surprise for this area. A few uninhabited rooms; I check, first with my enhanced vision, then with the senses borrowed from the bugs that infest the place.

The place I want is on the third floor.

"Crow, I swear, I'm gonna-"

I put my hand on her shoulder, and we're inside.

"-kick your...really? _Really_?" Her voice drops to a hiss, and she grabs my sleeve. "We're breaking into places now? _Really!_?"

"Nobody's living in this apartment." Maybe something to do with the exposed insulation and recently repaired drywall. I pull away, edging toward the _door_. I can _see_ something inside, and my head is _pounding_...I push it open, and stare.

Glory Girl says something, but I don't really hear it.

" _You were called here, but I still find myself impressed. You've found one of my Shrines."_ I almost jump, as he appears. The Outsider. Exactly like I remember...and I'd half convinced myself it was a dream. " _It isn't unique, but it holds meaning all the same. Because it is the first that you've found."_ He moves to the side, and my eye is drawn to the...'shrine'. Broken boards, lashed together with electrical wiring and tape and draped with what looks like a bed-sheet.

"What are those…?" They're dark, pulsing things. They make my fingers itch.

" _There was a time when people carved my Mark into bone, seeking my blessings. These Runes are symbols of my favor, in the hands of my chosen. Gather them, and you will reap great rewards."_ I take a step forward, despite a moment of...resistance. " _In more recent times, they fashioned charms for luck, and to ward away evil. These, too, will serve you well. If in different ways."_

I swallow, take another step. "Did you-?"

" _No...these things are not of my making. But I..._ _ **appreciate**_ _them, nonetheless."_ He looks past me. " _You may come to appreciate them as well. I suppose time will tell."_

He's gone. The shrine pulses. I reach out for the thing settled in the center of the shrine, round and thin and almost fragile-

"-row! I said _snap out of it!_ "

I yelp as I hit the wall, blinking away the haziness that had settled over me and...and...what the hell? "Glory Girl?"

"Finally!" I can't help but flinch as she shoves me again, scowling ferociously. "You just _completely_ zoned out on me, and then you started…" She trails off, shudders, and looks over her shoulder. At the _shrine_. "Crap...this is _way_ beyond freaky, okay? We're leaving."

"But-"

"No buts! That thing was messing with your head. We're getting you away from it, and then we're going to call... _somebody_...about this. Okay?"

"I'm not-"

"That wasn't actually a question. You don't have to agree with me for me to drag you out of-"

Something outside goes _boom_. And I try not to whimper as Glory Girl digs her fingers into the wall beside me. "You've got to be kidding me." Another _boom_ , a little further away, and she turns her back on me. "Seriously!? Has the entire world gone _crazy_ tonight!?"

"...are we going to-"

"Yes, we're gonna check it out!" She stalks over to a window and yanks it up, breaking the lock in the process. "Now get your skinny butt in gear before people explode!"

And she's out the window. I can hear the staccato _pop-pop-pop_ of gunfire, not far away. Something is definitely going down. She's going to need backup.

I hesitate. Then I don't.

The carved bone trinkets are heavy in my pockets as I follow Glory Girl out into the fight.


	5. Chapter 3

Alright, I don't jump _directly_ into the fight. Not only would that be stupid, but whatever's happening is almost two blocks away from the apartment. It takes a couple of teleports just to get to a spot where I can see what's going on.

Something blew one of the big doors off a warehouse... _into_ the warehouse. A break-in? No, if it was just that, they wouldn't still be fighting. Gangs, it has to be. So why are they fighting _inside_? And...oh, crap, where did Glory Girl go?

I hit the warehouse roof and enhance my eyes... _fuck_. Five, eight, ten...no, that one just disappeared, so that's...I give up trying to count. There's a lot of bodies, guys with guns getting their asses handed to them by a handful without. Glory Girl is flying around, maybe trying to decide who to punch (because that seems to be a pattern with her), and there are three giant... _things_ wrecking the place. And on top of that, someone down there is appearing and disappearing...that's Oni Lee. So the guys with guns are probably Azn Bad Boys. And the sum total of my knowledge about the ABB boils down to 'avoid the dragon man'...

I don't have time to worry about that, though, because there's a _fight_ happening right beneath my feet.

Warehouses aren't exactly small buildings, so it's not hard to find a spot inside that's mostly away from the fighting. And once I'm inside, everything get's that much louder; besides a few shelves and broken pallets the place is mostly empty, all concrete and brick. So while the shooting has mostly tapered off, there's still enough noise to set my ears ringing.

The giant monster-things crashing around don't really help with that.

I take a few deep breaths, blinking away my night-vision so I can get a better sense of what I'm up against...and half the fight vanishes behind a black cloud. That would explain the spotty gunfire, and Glory Girl's inability to do more than smack down the outliers and chase Oni Lee. So, giant monsters, a teleporting psychopath, and now _blinding fog_. This just keeps getting weirder.

I'm not bulletproof, so I'll leave fighting in the open to her. Right now, that darkness is looking _really_ inviting.

I start running, and reach for my power just as I break into the cloud...whoa. Alright. It's not just fog; I can feel it dragging at me, like I'm walking underwater. Not _good_ , but I can work around it. Especially since the nearest armed thug seems similarly affected, and without the advantage of his sight.

He's got a machine-pistol. _Lead with the bat_ ; I knock it down and away. There's a flash as his finger catches the trigger, but I don't hear the gunshot. So sound _and_ vision are muffled. Good to know...the gun drops, and I pull back for another swing, put everything I can into it to catch him in the back of the head.

It's slowed, yes, but there's enough power behind the strike to drop him. One down...and I'm _very_ glad nobody is keeping score, because between everyone else in the room at least five more went down in the same time. Including one taken down by the big guy walking toward me, completely unaffected by the fog. The source, maybe. I hold up my bat, and he stops; when I wave at one of the other gang-members wandering blindly nearby, he nods and turns away.

Good. Making friends is good.

My vision cuts out halfway to my next target, and I stumble, take the moment to breathe and restore it before carrying on. Then it's just like before; one swing to disarm, another for the knockout.

There's another explosion; I don't hear it, but it feels like a kick in the chest. Goddamn Oni Lee with his _Goddamn grenades_. That needs to stop, or he's going to get lucky, and somebody will end up _really_ dead. Since that somebody could very easily be _me_ , I've got a vested interest in stopping him.

So, first thing to do; identify him. Easy enough; he's the one in the scowling demon mask, teleporting every few seconds to shoot at something. Or stab something. Someone. Whatever. Glory Girl _seems_ to be keeping his attention, the monster-things too...he's reactive. Can I use that? Maybe if I had more to work with than a baseball bat.

Guess I should get something more to work with, then. First things first; I reach for Control, and immediately start calling on everything in range, moving for the next closest thug to take out of the fight while I'm recovering. Once he's on the ground and I've managed to get the beginnings of a proper swarm inside, I create a pack of rats and spread them out...my vision goes again, but I've got a good enough idea of my surroundings to find my way out of the fog.

Walking out of near-silence and into the _noise_ again throws me for a few seconds; I find myself looking down the barrel of a gun, only for the guy holding it to jerk to the side without pulling the trigger. I'm behind him before he can recover, swinging at his knee, then his shoulder when his legs fold. I kick the gun across the floor to be safe, and start moving back toward the shelves.

Someone _appears_ beside one of my rats, and I push it to leap and attack. A second later, the sensation of biting into tough cloth is doubled. Five seconds after that, it's doubled again and the first one has disappeared. Then I lose the rat.

But it gave me the idea I needed. I refresh my control and keep moving _away_ from the fighting, directing as many flying insects as I can to find Oni Lee. When they do, I'll have a way to-

Someone kicks me in the back, and I stumble forward, spinning into the hardest swing I can muster. Nothing. That'd be the teleporter, then. Irritating, but two can play at that game.

I move _up_. Above the shelves, further away. Mostly out of sight. Just a moment to catch my breath, recover from the hit... _shit_ , that really hurts. Guess that's the difference between a gangbanger and experienced killer...there. I've got bugs on him. That means I can follow him.

He 'ports, and I follow, aiming to hit him upside the head; he goes down, but quickly dissolves into ash. He must have been gone before I even hit him. I can't keep up with that, especially if he drags this out. Think. Adapt. _Breathe_ , come on, he didn't hit me _that_ hard…

Rats. I gather them up, scramble to the side when I hear more gunfire. Five, clinging to my sweatshirt; I locate the newest Oni Lee and teleport. Still too quick. A couple rats lose their grip, when I drop and roll away...the world explodes, and then all I can hear is ringing. Not like earlier, with the Shrine. This is sharper, and more painful.

There he is. I grab another rat in my off hand, make sure the rest are still holding on, then push to my feet and appear behind him. This time, he's distracted. _This_ time, I get some of the rats on him. One manages to get into his coat before he can shake them all.

I don't hold back. The rat bites and scratches, digging in as deep as it can. Flies cloud his vision while mosquitoes squeeze under his mask. By the time I've recovered enough to 'port to an out of the way corner, I've managed to get them into his eyes.

Then he's out of my range, and there's nothing more I can do.

Which is...good. That's _very_ good. I have to laugh, because I just beat my first real villain. Well...I drove him off. But that's still a victory. And I'm pretty sure all the ABB guys are down too. Go us!

Ugh...but I feel like shit. This for is what I get for chaining my powers like that. I think I'll _walk_ back to Glory Girl.

The fight's definitely over, because she's not busy punching people anymore. Guess she's taking the time to chat with our new friends. Funny...seems like I'm making friends all over the place the past few days. I wave, to draw her attention, and she looks at me...her mouth moves, but I can't make out what she's saying. Stupid _ringing_ …I shake my head, motion at my ears. It's not a big deal, but she still seems really worried. Really…

Okay. Head-rush. That's okay, I can...I can handle that and wow, she got close. When did that happen? I grin, take a step-

 _Ouch_.

I'm...why am I on the ground? That's stupid. I should be standing. Don't have time to...to rest…

There's a big guy with a skull mask. I think he's the one who was making the fog...that stuff was useful. I smile, and wave at him. It's good having friends with useful...useful powers. Oh, and hey, another blonde. Kinda like Glory Girl. _She_ doesn't look happy either. Now she looks scared. That's weird. Why would she be scared? I'm not scary. Especially not when I'm...wait.

Wait, something's wrong. That's why this is all...not right. Something is wrong, and it's...I swallow, and lift my hand to touch my side. My sweatshirt feels warm and damp. It's supposed to be warm, but not that warm, and definitely not damp. So I'm...bleeding? I'm bleeding. I've been-

 _Pain_.

Am I flying? I think I'm flying. Can I fly now? Maybe I can only fly when I've been shot. That's a stupid fucking power to have. That's-

-I can hear again. That's good. That's good. At least, I think I can. It sounds like whispering...oh, yeah. It is. Glory Girl. Whispering. She doesn't look happy. Who's she talking to?

"Why're we bein' quiet?"

Now she's talking to me...too fast. I can't follow what she's saying.

There's someone new, though. She looks scared, too.

"S'alright." I reach up for...something, but it's a lot of effort. Not important. I let my arm drop, close my eyes. "S'okay. 'm not...not that scary." Not-

Not…

Darkness. And a voice.

" _And now your first real test is past. It took you some time to get here...but you managed, didn't you? After months of running in circles, you find yourself victorious."_

It doesn't feel much like a victory. It doesn't feel much like anything.

" _It wasn't what you expected...but then, isn't it better that way? The predictable is, after all, so very_ _ **boring**_ _."_

Is there anything wrong with that? Sometimes boring is good.

" _You_ _ **would**_ _think that, wouldn't you?"_

The darkness pulses.

" _You started on this path when you chose to accept my gifts. But today you took your first step. Your first victory won. Your first enemy earned. You've even made allies. Almost as interesting as you. I..._ _ **approve**_ _."_

And that's a good thing, I guess?

" _Perhaps. But if all you're seeking is approval, then maybe you're not what I thought you were."_

Silence...and a dull pain in my side.

" _One way or another, I think you'll prove yourself. But for now...for now, you have lessons to learn. So go. And, perhaps, take more care in the future. I would hate for you to be lost so soon."_

Lost…?

The darkness snaps, and I open my eyes to...nothing. Discomfort, yes, but I was expecting _pain_. Because... _shit_ , Oni Lee. He _shot_ me! I'm-

"Hey, calm down." Hands, pressing me back before I can try to sit up. It's...right. Glory Girl. She was there. "You okay Crow?"

"I…" I'm not wearing my sweatshirt, anymore. My shirt, though, is stuck to my side...I worm a finger into the ragged hole there, but all I feel is skin and dried blood. "I never signed off on 'Crow'."

She slaps a hand over her mouth before she can laugh, takes a few seconds to control herself again. "You're an _idiot_. What the hell am I supposed to call you then, huh?" She rubs her face, looks around...she's not in costume, anymore. She's wearing _pajamas_. The hell? "Dammit. It is... _way_ too late for this."

Late... _late_. Shit. "What time is it?"

"It's like...I don't even know at this point. The sun isn't up yet."

Alright, that gives me some time to get home...the blood off, and change. Get rid of the-

"Whatever. Doesn't matter. Because _you_...are staying right here." What? I start to object, but she pokes me in the chest, hard enough to hurt. "No, you know what? You're staying. Because we're going to have a long talk about the fact that _you-_ " another poke, and then she's waving the flat, carved bone rune in front of my face. "You _took these_. And then you got _shot_ , so you also have to apologize to my sister for dragging her out of bed at godawful o'clock to heal you. And also because I have been up all night following you around and I'm not in the mood to be argued with so you're gonna shut up and go to sleep. You got it?"

"I-"

She glares. And I shut up.

"Good." She stands up...yeah, I'm on the floor. That explains why my neck hurts. I sit up, carefully...this is a bedroom. Probably _her_ bedroom, actually. Because she brought me here to...Panacea. The healer. Right...right.

And I thought getting shot made me feel like shit.

"...sorry."

She huffs, moving around her bed. "I'll bet."

Yep. That's guilt. I palm my face, rub the gritty feeling out of my eyes...finally just yank my stupid home-made mask off entirely. It feels more exposing than it should. "Taylor." She looks at me again, and I shrug, pretend not to notice her surprise. "You can call me Taylor."

A moment of silence...and then she snorts, and throws a pillow at my face. "Go to sleep, Taylor."

"...my dad's going to be worried if I'm not home."

"I can take the heat." The lamp beside her bed goes out, and the bed creaks. " _Go to sleep_."

"This is-"

"I will knock you out if the next word out of your mouth isn't 'Goodnight'."

I weigh my options, along with what I know of her behavior. "...goodnight, Glory Girl."

"Thank you."

Silence. I set the pillow down, and stretch out as best I can. I...actually am pretty tired.

"And it's Victoria, out of costume."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Don't mess with the freaky bone things, either."

" _Goodnight Victoria_."

She doesn't respond again, and it's not long before her breathing evens out. I enhance my eyes, and count four bodies in the house. All asleep. Panacea knows I'm here, but I have _no_ idea how their parents are going to react. Maybe it would be better if I just...no, this is stupid. I'm too tired to worry.

Tomorrow might suck, but my only problem right now is the that Victoria's floor is _really_ uncomfortable. The rest I can deal with later.

I dream of nothing.


	6. Chapter 4

Gnawing hunger wakes me up, and I have a few moments to enjoy my tension headache before I remember that, yes, last night really had been that bad. It may not _feel_ like it, but with some aspirin and a double serving of breakfast I'm sure I'd be ready to go out...and probably get myself shot all over again.

Shit, that's not going to get any easier to think about. I _really_ screwed up last night, and if it hadn't been for Panacea...well, I actually don't know how bad it was. But there's no way I could hide that sort of injury from dad, so I owe her for that, at least. And Glory... _Victoria_ , too, since she's the one that actually brought me in. Which is...ridiculous, now that I think about it. We can't have spent more than five hours together. More, I guess, but I was unconscious for awhile, so-

No, this is stupid. I could spend all day analyzing things to death, but that's not going to help anything.

I push myself up, wince as my neck and back express their lack of appreciation with me for spending the night on the floor. _Victoria_ has a bedside clock, so I don't have to wonder about the time (almost two in the afternoon; dad's gonna be _frantic_ ), and there's plenty of space for me to stretch out some of the kinks-

Footsteps, approaching the door. I immediately enhance my vision...relax and blink away the false-color as Panacea slips into the room. She freezes at the sight of me, but recovers quickly and shuts the door behind her. I do my best to smile, but it dies out pretty quickly since she's _very_ studiously not looking me in the face. "Hello."

"You're up. That's good." Her tone is flat, and tired. "If you don't want to sit through a bunch of invasive questions, you should probably get ready to leave." She shifts, turning her head a little further away. "Do you need a mask or something?"

"I've...I've still got mine." It's _really_ awkward just standing here, but I don't know what to do about it, so I just plough forward. "Thanks. For last night, I mean. You probably saved my life." Nothing. "I'm Taylor." That was definitely easier the second time. And it got a reaction, just a bit of surprise, but now she's actually looking at me, at least. "It's... _nice_? To meet you."

There. Open. Friendly. I can interact with people.

She sighs, and shakes her head, some of the tension going out of her shoulders. "Right. Sorry." _Her_ smile looks as forced as mine had felt. "Amy." Her eyes dart down to my side, for a second. "And...you might have been fine, if Vicky had gotten you to the hospital fast enough."

"'Might' isn't really a qualifier I'm comfortable with, in this case." I manage to make it sound like a joke, but it doesn't do anything to lighten the atmosphere. "I'm sorry that you had to get up and take care of something like that in the middle of the night. That can't have been very pleasant."

"It wasn't." I flinch, and she looks away again. "...but I've seen worse. And I just slept in a little bit. It's not a problem."

Oh, there's the guilt again. Wonderful.

"Still, I owe you." I rub fitfully at my hand, and the prickling mark there. "A lot."

The silence stretches just long enough to turn awkward again, but then she just nods and edges around me. "There's a bathroom, two doors to the left. We only cleaned off some of the blood, last night, so you might want to take care of that."

It sounds more like a dismissal than a suggestion, but given that I'm basically an uninvited guest I'm not about to complain. "Right. Thanks."

I close the door behind me, and do a quick sweep of the house to make sure nobody else is about to stumble across me in the next few seconds; two adults, but they're downstairs, and both sitting comfortably. So not about to start wandering.

I'll be able to scrub dried blood out of my shirt in privacy, then.

 _Great_.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

"This seems like a lot of trouble to go through, is all I'm saying."

I sigh, not bothering to look up at her. The light glaring off the rooftops is bad enough; Victoria is either completely oblivious, or taking some kind of sadistic pleasure in holding a conversation with the sun ready to blind me, right behind her. I can't _wait_ for that aspirin. "Look, you said you'd help me with this. What did you think you were going to do, flash a smile and say 'don't worry, I'm a superhero'?"

"Hey, don't knock it. That stuff tends to work."

I actually stop for a second, squinting up at her. "Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah." She rolls over to face me, lounging back in the air. "Like...eight times out of ten."

"I...I really don't know what to say about that." I shake my head. "We're going down, here." I don't wait for her to respond before teleporting down to street level. She catches up as I'm shoving my mask into a pocket, and we move out of the alleyway on foot. "But seriously. Stick to the plan." _That's_ another thought that's making me sick. Dad's going to be worried either way, and I'm going out of my way to lie to him in order to make him worry a little _less_. "...it'll be fine."

"Okay, okay." She shrugs; my finely tuned people-skills are telling me she's bored. "Why don't you just tell him the truth?"

I stare. "That I got _shot_."

"Well I mean...yeah, don't tell him _that_ part. But the rest of it. Y'know, powers, hero-stuff."

That has been looking around to make sure nobody's listening. Considering where we are there's not any foot-traffic to speak of, so we're good for now, but _seriously_. "Keep your voice down. And he'd make me join the Wards."

"Which you don't want to do, for some reason."

"I already told you why-"

"Well, it's a stupid reason." She huffs, hooking her thumbs in the pockets of her ( _designer_ ) jeans. "I mean, being independent is great and all, but not everyone can hack it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"C'mon, you know what I mean...you do know what I mean, right? You're not half bad at this, but you need backup. Somebody to keep you from doing stupid crap."

Here it is. "I wondered how long it would take you to get around to this."

"I was working my way there." She reaches up to poke my shoulder. "And I figure you can't just teleport away, out in the open like this."

Alright, so she's more devious than appearances suggest. That's fine. "Get on with it, then."

She huffs. "You took the bone-things."

"Yep."

"The things that had you _hearing things_ from, like, ten blocks away. The things that we found in an empty apartment, on some kind of psycho modern-art exhibit, and made you _completely_ space out before I dragged you away from them."

"Yes, I did." It sounds _really_ bad when she lays it out like that. I hunch a bit more as we walk, wishing I'd left my hood up. "They were... _interacting_ with my powers, somehow. It seemed like a good idea to take them with me to see what they were doing."

"I'd ask what you were smoking, but I'm afraid you'd answer me." She shakes her head. "Messing with your head _and_ your powers? That's some kind of Master/Trump bullshit. _That_ is the kind of stuff you report straight to the PRT and let _them_ deal with it."

"So you're saying you're _not_ going to give them back."

"I'm gonna toss them out is what I'm gonna do." She scowls. "I'm not keeping them _near_ my family after today. I don't really know how to explain what we were doing in that place without bringing everyone down on our heads, so I'm just gonna forget about it and let somebody else clean _that_ up. And _we_ ," Her tone makes it very clear that 'we' is mostly 'you', "are going to avoid any more stuff like this that might show up."

I'm...really not sure how to argue that, right now. She's got a good reason to be worried, when I think about it, but I've got no idea how to explain the Outsider without either sounding crazy or freaking her out even more. "...fine."

"Alright then."

We walk in silence, for a few more blocks...once we're in range I take one more look around, then reach up to grab Victoria's hand before teleporting us directly to my room.

"Being in the open really wasn't going to stop me." I whisper, as the brief moment of disorientation passes. She doesn't say anything, just glances around for a second before plopping down on the edge of my bed.

I fight not to feel too self-conscious, but given the state of my room it's not easy. Nothing for it, though. I move, as quietly as I can, to the other side of the the room so I can get into my closet. As I strip out of my 'costume', I enhance my vision and glance around...dad's here, downstairs. He's sitting, probably at the kitchen table, and judging by the way he keeps _fidgeting_ , he's not happy. At all.

Which is about what I expected. Still…

A change of clothes is _very_ welcome, even if they're just my running things. I reflect on that, as I shove my bloodied shirt and jeans into the bottom of my laundry hamper...it's strange, how different clean clothes can make you feel. And clothes without bullet-holes in them. Although maybe that part isn't as surprising.

"Cmon." I reach out, and she takes my hand again; I put us between a pair of fenced-in yards, mostly out of sight of the street and any neighbors. Not that our neighbors are particularly _nosy_ , but...better safe than sorry. I'd hate for this to fall apart a hundred feet away from my house.

"Hey, what's your last name, anyway?"

"Uh, Hebert? Why?"

"'Cause our story is that we've known each other for a little while?" She shrugs, eyeing the surrounding houses as we make the long approach to my door. "I mean, who invites someone to their place without knowing their last name?"

...is she serious? "You." I actually stop again, turning to look at her. " _You_ do. You wouldn't let me _not_ sleep on your floor. And that was before you knew my _first_ name."

"Huh...you're right." She rocks on her heels, then shrugs and starts walking again. "So, this is the place?"

"Yes." And now that we're here... _really_ here, not just sneaking around upstairs...my nerves return in full. I almost drop the spare key twice, trying to get it from inside the porch light to the door. As the lock clicks open, I take a deep breath, and step inside. "Hey! I'm home!"

I wave Victoria in, shut the door, and do my best to seem only a _little_ nervous. "I'm really sorry I'm so late. I really didn't mean to stay out that-"

He's upset. That much is obvious from the way he ignores Victoria to immediately smother me in a hug. "God, Taylor! Where have you been!?"

"Wh-" For a moment, the lie catches in my throat...but as worried as he is now? It'd be even worse if he knew what I really _had_ been doing. "I went on my run-"

"You…" Ah, there it is. He holds me at arm's length, a flash of his more familiar temper showing through the fear. "Taylor, 'going out for a run' shouldn't take _seven hours_." I wince, and he visibly restrains himself. "I was...I thought something had happened…"

"Uh, I might have had something to do with that."

Dad almost jumps, immediately focusing on Victoria. "Who...ah…" His arms drop awkwardly to his sides, and he clears his throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that...Taylor would you like to introduce your friend?"

I try to ignore the plaintive note in that word. Ever since Emma...well. We haven't talked about it since I got out of the hospital, but I know that _this_ has been one of his big concerns. The stilted conversations regarding my social life weren't particularly enjoyable, but they make for a useful excuse now. "This is Victoria. I met her this morning."

"I _might_ have accidentally made her run into a light-pole this morning." Okay, that was _not_ the story we'd agreed on. Her smirk makes it clear that she's not just veering off because she forgot a detail. "So I had to make it up to her with breakfast, and, as it turns out, she's a fan. Not the creepy-stalker kind, either."

"Ah…"

"Victoria _Dallon_." I try very hard to sound embarrassed, and not look like I'm ready to strangle her.

His brow furrows as he mouths the name back at me, looking thoughtful for a moment before recognition hits. "Dallon. New Wave?" She grins, as he turns back to her. "So you would be, ah...Glory Girl, isn't it?"

"That's me! And Taylor said you weren't big on the Cape scene." She sends me a scolding look, and I roll my eyes.

"You can see what I've been dealing with all morning."

"Oh, please. _I'm_ not the one that completely lost track of time listening to stories of my awesome, crime-fighting adventures."

"No, you're just the one that lost track of time _telling_ me about them."

She waves it off. "Details." Dad is definitely off balance now; I think she knows it, because she immediately pours on the charm. "So, yeah, breakfast might have kind of turned into a thing, and it took _forever_ to get here because she didn't want to fly, and _I_ wasn't about to _run_ with her, because then we'd _both_ need to change...you don't mind if I drag her back out, do you? She owes me a shopping trip. This _needs_ to happen."

That is so wildly off-script that I find myself speechless. Dad, on the other hand, just seems overwhelmed by her sheer cheerfulness...it's a stark contrast to the usual mood around here. And isn't _that_ a depressing thought?

"Ah...no, no. That's...that's fine."

Wait, what? "Are you…" I don't finish _that_ particular question, mostly because dad doesn't appreciate me cursing, but also because it wouldn't fit the new story. "I mean...are you sure?"

He nods, and turns a strained smile my way. I think he's trying to be encouraging...not even a minute ago he was freaking out because I wasn't here, and now he's ready to throw me to the wolves. Or wolf, I guess. Still-

"Great! So, Taylor, you should go, y'know, shower and change and stuff, while I raid your fridge." At Dad's startled look, she offers a sheepish smile. "We _may_ have skipped lunch."

"Oh, that's...that's fine, then." Another hesitant nod. "Taylor, I can have something ready for you when you're done? I'm sure you two won't want to hang around here any longer than you have to…"

I can _feel_ how brittle my smile is, and I doubt my glaring at Victoria is very subtle, but it doesn't seem to bother him too much so…

"Thanks, dad."

I...really should have just snuck back in last night. _Sigh_.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

"So, your dad's nice."

I flush, pointedly ignoring her as I dig into the brown paper bag. He _packed me a lunch_. I'm never going to live this down. "I can't believe that actually worked." He took to the idea of meeting a famous Cape better than I would have thought. I mean, I expected a little more...confusion. Maybe some _disbelief_ , a least.

"Yeah, what'd I say? 'Don't worry, I'm a hero'. Works for me every time. " She smirks, grabs the sandwich out of my hands almost the moment it's clear of the bag. I glare at her, until she's unwrapped and examined it. "Ugh. Mustard. Pass."

I take it back with as much dignity as I can muster. "You had yours already...and I thought you said eight times out of ten?"

"That's close enough to every time for me." She pouts. "And heroing is hungry work! You can't blame me for that."

"Healing from bullet wounds is hungry work too." Amy had been pretty clear about _that_ much, at least, and I wasn't about to ignore advice from the professional. "Hands off."

"Pfft. Fine." She slumps back, kicking her legs in the air. "...hey, do you always hang out on rooftops like this?"

"You don't?"

"Not really." She looks around, leans back to poke at some weathered gravel. "I mean, the view's okay, but it's not exactly what I'd call 'ambiance'."

"I don't think that's exactly the best _use_ of the term…"

"Shut up and eat your pack-lunch. Daddy's girl."

I glare. She grins. I shut up and eat my pack-lunch.

"So, once you're done, we can talk shopping." I narrow my eyes, but she waves it off. "Not _shopping_ shopping. Well, not right now, anyway. Cape stuff. Your costume still needs work, and I think last night was a pretty good example of why you should invest in, y'know, body-armor and stuff."

" _You_ don't."

She gives me a Look. I wish I'd worn my other sweater; bullet-hole aside, I could at least hide beneath the hood. "Anyway. You've got this sort of 'sneaky anti-hero' vibe going on with your powers, so I figure you could probably pull off something a little heavier than mom and Aunt Sarah prefer. Nothing Tinker-grade, but we've got a guy. We could probably swing something bullet-proof, at least."

That's...really not something I expected. Not the costume thing. The offer. "I don't know if you noticed, but I didn't exactly have the money to put toward a costume the _first_ time around." I have a little bit of money saved up, but I've been hesitant to commit it to anything specific yet. And it's not enough to pay for bullet-proof materials, let alone a _commercial_ vest. "I can't afford something like that."

"So we go half-and-half, or you'll pay me back or something. Look," she cuts me off before I can speak up again, "if we're going to be working together, you can't be going around in a thrift-shop costume, okay? That's just not going to work at all. I've got an image to maintain."

Okay. That's implying a lot more than the 'let's meet up' attitude from a couple of days ago. Then again, so does the fact that I'm not wearing a mask right now. "You want to keep working together?"

She shrugs, looking out towards the bay. "You're pretty cool, and you could use some badass backup. Also, my cousins are sticks-in-the-mud, Amy's at the hospital all the time, and the PRT get grouchy when I crash the Wards' patrols."

Yeah, that makes much more sense. "So you want to team up because I'm the only option. Thanks."

"C'mon, don't be like that. We make a _great_ team! I fly in, kick ass, take names, and you do your sneaky thing while everyone's watching me! A perfect one-two combo!" She demonstrates with an exaggerated punch, nearly topples forward before catching herself; with her powers, obviously, since she bobs up off the edge of the roof for a moment before settling back down. "Anyway, it'd be great."

As annoying as it is she just _assumes_ I'll want to keep working with her...it's also a perfectly reasonable assumption. And it isn't as if she was wrong, either. This is the sort of opportunity that I _should_ be jumping at. I'd wanted a chance to build my own reputation, but working on my own hasn't inspired anything but a few rumors. If I was associated with someone who was _already_ a big name…

Besides which, Victoria is...nice. If a little loud. And intrusive.

"We can talk about the costume later-"

" _Yes_!"

"-but right now, my head isn't hurting anymore, and I don't feel like my stomach is about to eat itself. So why don't you tell me a little bit about what happened last night. I was pretty out of it near the end, there."

Her grin shifts to an impressive scowl. "Right...well, it turns out the Capes that the ABB were fighting were a villain gang. The Undersiders. I don't know a lot about them, but according from the stuff on PHO…"

I listen, as her explanation quickly transitions into a rant about villain conflict in Brockton Bay, and it serves pretty well as soothing background noise. I don't interrupt, even when my lunch is finished and the bag carted off to an open dumpster ten stories down by some helpful insects. She's got some particularly scathing opinions of the Empire, and suggests a few improbable things about Kaiser's heritage that have me _smiling_.

Yeah...I think this could work out just fine.


	7. Chapter 5

School hadn't come up until I got home last night. I hadn't even thought about the fact that it had been _Monday_. Dad had been understandably upset about my skipping school to 'go shopping', and without Victoria around to play her 'I'm a Hero!' card, I couldn't really argue it.

It makes me feel more than a little guilty about skipping out today, too. But after my run this morning, I just...I couldn't bring myself to go. That's not a good thing; every day I skip it's going to be that much harder to drag myself back. 'Today' I promise myself. 'Just today'. And I almost believe it.

I wandered, for awhile, just to be out of the house, but eventually I found my way to the library. That's not too unusual, for me. The lady at the front desk recognizes me, and her expression sours slightly, but she doesn't make a scene about how I should be in school. I ignore her, and drift between the shelves before pulling up a seat at one of the public computers.

If my meetings with Victoria (and the subsequent Cape fight) had taught me anything, it's that I'm woefully lacking in some basic knowledge. I don't know how much I'm going to be able to do to fix that, but I have to _try_. 'Forewarned is forearmed', after all.

While PHO might not be the most _reliable_ resource for information, it's probably going to be the best I can get.

It doesn't take me long to get to the wiki, even with the spotty internet connection. My first thought is to confirm some of what Victoria told me yesterday, about the local villains. Some I'd recognized easily, the big names that you always heard in the news. Some I only recognized once I was on their pages. Others I'd never even heard of. Which really hammers home the fact that I _should_ have been studying this stuff before, instead of letting myself get distracted picking up petty criminals.

Nothing for it. I'm working on it _now_.

As far as the big gangs go, Victoria's rant was practically spot-on. Even the bit about the Merchants, who, if anything, seem to be worse than she'd let on. She _did_ miss a new member of the ABB; Bakuda, a Tinker whose debut involved taking her college hostage with high-tech bombs. I'm sure she and Oni Lee get along just fine.

I'm more interested in the 'Defeats and Captures' section of their page, though. Nothing on Bakuda, yet, but there are a few scattered reports about Oni Lee. Nothing recent, which means he _really_ got away on Sunday...and...according to this, Lung _didn't_. Ambushed and taken down by Armsmaster, brought in, and likely to be Birdcaged. That...is that a coincidence? It seems a little out there. Lung's goons and one of his Lieutenants getting into a brawl with the Undersiders, only for the big boss himself to get taken in by _one_ local hero? When he'd been dodging whole teams up to this point?

I'm not _unhappy_ about it. But something about it just seems...I don't know. Too convenient, maybe? Or maybe I'm just seeing connections that aren't there. Distracting myself, for that matter.

I move on down my mental checklist. Faultline's Crew. Victoria was a bit more focused on her dislike of their work as villains-for-hire than anything else, but after a glance at their roster, reported history, and all of the comments on their page, it looks like there's some reasonable doubt there. People to watch out for, but they aren't racists, mad bombers, or junkies.

Come to think of it, that might make them _more_ of a problem. So, people to watch _carefully_.

The Undersiders are more immediately interesting, if only because I'd actually met them. Sort of. Less troubling than the ABB, at least.

Victoria had only gone into a couple of things they had done, mostly focusing on Grue and Hellhound...or 'Rachel Lindt', apparently. I'd been assuming it was a personal bias, but the wiki proves that's not the case. They're the only ones with any history that doesn't start with the formation of their team. The article for Tattletale is little more than a stub. Regent doesn't even have that much.

From what I gather, though, they're small time, and don't have a gang to back them up. After a bit of debate, I file them away in a little mental box next to Faultline's crew. A definite concern, but nothing to get too worked up over.

My stomach growls, and a glance at the clock shows that it's almost noon. Funny how time flies...I back out of the wiki and navigate my way to the message boards for Brockton Bay. A little more research, and then lunch.

First, I look for anything on Oni Lee. There's a thread about the ABB, but I don't have the patience to do more than skim the latest pages. When that doesn't turn anything up, I start poking through the more active discussions...find a few mentions of a disturbance in the right general area, but nothing concrete. Maybe a good thing. No witnesses means nobody was close enough to the fighting to get hurt…

I miss in the first time, but the speculation that fills the rest of the page draws my attention back to it. Posted by 'SpeakEasy', yesterday.

' _GG's shadow should check Connections.'_

Well then.

The 'Connections' section of the message board wasn't really something I was expecting to make use of. I don't even have a name yet, and the only people I've 'saved' always took the chance to cut and run. When I see 'Interesting Tattoo' amid the rest of the cryptic subject lines? I have to swallow down a sudden attack of butterflies. Not the happy kind.

' _Hope you're doing okay.'_ The message reads. ' _Would have liked to thank you in person. Meet?'_

It's signed 'Tt'. Doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. I dismissed the 'coincidence' with Lung, but this one's enough to convince me. Being convinced doesn't help me decide what to do about it.

A villain wants to meet me. Why? Two sentences isn't enough to make any real assumptions here. It doesn't seem like an invitation to a fight, but if it's some kind of trap then it _wouldn't_. I can't think of any other reasoning behind it, so...she wants to talk, or she wants to set me up. One or the other.

Do I ignore it? I don't have any particular reason to spring a trap, _or_ to set up a meeting with a known criminal. Especially one that I know next to nothing about.

...but then, meeting her would be a good way to fix that. Maybe.

I could ask...I can't even finish the thought. Victoria would probably punch me for even _thinking_ of agreeing to a meeting. And she'd find a way to convince my dad to lock me up, somehow. Not something I want to happen, even if it wouldn't actually stop me…

Overthinking it. Either I brush this off, and nothing changes. Or, I take it as an opportunity, and make the most of it.

Worst comes to worse, I can just run. I doubt any of them could keep up with me effectively.

Before I waste any more time debating things, I sign in as a guest and open a private message to 'Tt'.

' _I had a little help. You sure we should meet? We didn't part on the best of terms.'_

I send it off and leave the page up, settling back in my seat. I know it's ridiculous to expect an immediate response, but I don't really feel like trawling through pages of discussion anymore. It's nerve-wracking, just staring at the page. Ten minutes of _that_ has me ready to walk out.

And then the response comes in.

' _We didn't. Think we can get along just a little longer? G HH and me will meet you across from where we crossed paths. We'll be dressing up but not expecting anything formal.'_

' _We can meet at 3. Should give you enough time to get your things and get there from the Library. If not, let me know.'_

I _don't_ immediately teleport away, or start looking around for watchers. If they're close enough to see me, then it wouldn't matter if I spotted them _now_. But how the _hell_...?

No, it's not important. In the end, I'm sure that there are a dozen ways someone could pinpoint a public computer like that. That's why I'm using it, after all. It doesn't change anything. It's just a power-game. 'I know where you are', but that information is useless to her.

In the future I'll be more careful. For now, I've got a meeting to get ready for.

' _I'll see you at three.'_

Oh, I'm going to wind up regretting this.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

There are a few buildings that could be 'across' from the warehouse where I'd fought Oni Lee the other night. That being the case, I decide to take the high-ground; the tallest building in the area is only a couple of blocks away, and gives a decent view of everything. Not a _great_ view, but...good enough.

Note to self; acquire binoculars. I'm not sure _what_ I'd wind up using them for, but they'd probably come in handy.

I didn't arrive too early, so I don't have to wait very long for the Undersiders' arrival. _That's_ kind of hard to miss, considering the massive dog-monsters they're riding; watching them jump from rooftop to rooftop is disconcerting, but I think I've still got them beat in terms of maneuverability. Three figures dismount, so they kept to their word as far as that goes...I stiffen, as one of them turns to _wave_ at me. What the hell...it must be Tattletale. Which would make that _twice_ now that she knew where I was.

Part of her power? If so, it isn't something I could effectively negate. Does it change my stance on this meeting? Initial thought is 'no', and given that I still don't know anything for sure, I can't particularly give myself a reason to bail.

Guess that's answer enough. I stand, plot my path, and step forward-

-moving around a rooftop vent as I continue forward, counting off the seconds until I've recovered enough to put myself-

-in the alleyway behind the building they've settled on. The wait, this time, gives me a chance to ensure that my hood is secure and my mask properly in place. I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Eyes closed, a deep breath in-

-and when I open them again, I'm facing the trio and their mounts from less than twenty feet away.

"Nice entrance." The girl who must be Tattletale grins at me, apparently unconcerned by my sudden appearance; her friends are less enthusiastic. Hellhound looks ready to sicc her dogs on me, and Grue is growing increasingly indistinct as darkness pours off of him. "Understated, but effective."

Seeing them in the daylight like this is strange. I vaguely remember them standing together in the warehouse, once the fight had ended, but I hadn't been in the best state of mind. Out here, it's hard not to pick out the little details that make them _real_. Disconcerting…

Also, I'm fairly certain that Tattletale's arm hadn't been broken, before. I've got a niggling feeling that that's important.

And I'm just standing here like an idiot. Why do I keep doing this? And in front of _villains_ , this time. "...thanks." Pulling myself together. _Now_. "Looks like you didn't get away clean from that fight, either."

"Oh, this?" She smirks, lifting the purple cast up, for a moment; I almost miss her wince. "No, this was a parting gift from Lung."

" _Lung_." I frown...they'd been fighting the ABB, yes, but it hadn't exactly been the _center_ of their territory. Had they just been that unlucky? Had he been on his way to meet the group in the warehouse, for some reason? And for that matter, "Lung was captured by Armsmaster." On Sunday...I _knew_ that hadn't been a coincidence!

"Considering Bitch's dogs did most of the work, I'd say we really should have earned an assist on that one." Grue speaks up, his voice echoing from behind his fog. "Not surprised the Protectorate wouldn't publicize that, though...Lung was out looking for us. Thanks to you, we managed to break up Oni Lee and his soldiers before they could meet up with their boss; I doubt we would have done as well if they'd had the chance to put up a united front."

Gang on gang violence. I'd like to be surprised, but I'm really not. "So is that what this is? 'Thanks for helping us out'?" I look to Tattletale, again, then the silent Hellhound...Bitch? Had her name been changed at some point? "You probably could have just done this online."

"Well, we couldn't very well give you _this_ without meeting." Tattletale turns around to pick something up from behind her...I teleport several feet to the side as she tosses it, wince at the hollow, plastic clatter as it lands. Stupid…

"Seriously, Tattletale? Are you trying to piss her off?" Grue sounds upset. Tattletale doesn't look particularly bothered by it.

"My bad?"

"We're going to have a long talk about this, later…"

It's a lunch-box. I'm surprised it took me this long to recognize it; I used to have one just like it. "Alexandria?" Villains, throwing lunch-boxes at me, and they choose one of the most notable heroes in the country. "What, is it collectable? Because I kind of doubt it could be considered 'mint' anymore."

Tattletale rolls her eyes. "Look inside."

Okay...it's probably not a trap, but I still open it _carefully_. Pause, as what I'm seeing actually registers. _Money_. Stacks of it, wrapped in paper bands marked with their value. Two-fifty apiece. I'm probably holding more money than I've ever seen in one place.

"That's two-thousand." I look up to see Grue nodding at me. "You may not have meant to help us, but you did. So it's yours. No strings attached."

I can't take this money. I'm a _hero_ , and they're _villains_. They can't actually expect me to accept this...Tattletale. The way she's smiling reminds me of the girls at school, when they _know_ they're working me into a corner.

"What do you want?"

I direct the question at her, because as much as Grue may seem the leader here, _she's_ the one that contacted me. _She's_ the one that arranged this meeting.

Her smile grows. I don't appreciate being right. "Well, honestly, to thank you. But also, to have a chance to talk."

"Talk?"

"About the future." She shrugs. "I think we'd all do better, knowing exactly where everything stands."

That didn't answer anything. "You want to clarify?"

A moment of silence, and she tilts her head. "You've been pretty active, you know? That doesn't make people very happy."

"I don't really care what the gangs think."

"Oh, not just the gangs." Teeth flash. I feel my stomach drop almost immediately. "The police. The PRT, too. They _really_ don't appreciate vigilantes on their turf."

"I'm not-"

"Five concussions." She cuts me off. " _Numerous_ broken bones. Not to mention all the complaints the police-department is having to field. There are also a ton of groups that would _love_ to add you to their lists of examples why the government needs to crack down on independent capes."

It...can't possibly have been that bad. It's only been a _month_. And this is Brockton Bay. Even if I had been a little...a little _rough_...it's not like it would stand out that much.

"Honestly, it's like Shadow Stalker all over again." I stiffen. Her smile takes on a new edge. "You know, rumor is she was pressganged into the Wards because she nearly killed someone. Doing exactly what you've been doing."

I'd read some of those rumors. Considering what the Outsider had said about her, it wouldn't surprise me if it were true. But I wasn't…

I wasn't. I _wasn't_ about to go out and kill someone. A few accidents aside, I was...I was still doing good. And any rough edges can be smoothed over, now that I've got Victoria to help me out.

"Is this going somewhere?"

Her smile slips, just a bit. I take it as a personal victory. "Well, the way I see it, you've got enough enemies. You could do to make a few more _friends_."

It takes me a second, but when I realize what she's saying I can't help but laugh. "You're villains."

"Well, yeah." She shrugs. "But we're not the E88. Or the ABB. We don't hold territory, or charge protection. We don't push drugs, or arrange dog-fights-" Hellhound growls. Guess that would hit close to home, for her? "-or jump people in dark alleys. And we _definitely_ don't kill people."

"So you're the lesser of two evils?"

She pouts. "If you _have_ to put it that way."

Grue clears his throat, finally stepping back into the 'conversation'. "I think what Tattletale is driving at is that you have bigger things to worry about than a group of thieves." He gestures my way, but I can't read much from it, thanks to that helmet of his, and the darkness still clinging to him. "You're a hero, we get that. We're going to cross paths again, at some point, and you'll be trying to put us in jail. That's just the way of the world."

"But we can at least work out some rules of engagement." Tattletale chimes in. "Or sort of a 'non-aggression' thing. We don't go looking to make trouble for you, you don't go out of your way to track us down. Maybe convince your high-flying friend not to break us in half, while you're at it."

I feel a spike of indignation, on Victoria's behalf. "She wouldn't do that…"

"Not on purpose. But she's got a healer on tap. You really think she hasn't covered up a few mistakes?"

 _That's_ not a pleasant thought...and it's entirely too plausible. I really don't like that. We've been talking for a few minutes, and already I just want to _leave_. "I'll give it a little thought." A nice, non-committal answer. "If that's all?"

Grue nods, taking a step back. "It should be-"

"Actually?" I grit my teeth, as Tattletale cuts in. "I've got a question, if you don't mind?"

I do mind, actually. I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that she knows a lot more than she should, and giving her more information just seems like shooting myself in the foot. But curiosity is a terrible temptation. "What?"

She looks me in the eyes, far too smug. "That tattoo on your hand. Did you know that you can't see it, unless you're not trying to look at it?"

...I look down, just for a moment. Her expression lights up. "I...don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do. Nice try, though."

I watch her for another few seconds...and disappear without a word.

The lunchbox feels heavy in my hands, as I slump down in a dark corner of the warehouse across the street. And the Mark on the back of the left is starting to _itch_.

There's the regret. Right on schedule.

I hate being right.


	8. Chapter 6

I can't focus today. Which makes sense, because if yesterday proved anything, it's that I'm mentally impaired.

Going off half-cocked, agreeing to meet with a group of villains? 'It seemed like a good idea at the time' just didn't cut it. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad iif I'd gotten anything useful out of it, besides a lunch box and two grand in dirty money. Or if I hadn't _panicked_ and run off like I did. Or maybe if I just hadn't gotten _curious_ in the first place. Stupid. _So_ stupid.

And, of course, the classes aren't my only problem. By this point my 'tormentors' have more than caught onto the fact that I've been avoiding them, so they've started doubling down at the times when they _know_ where I'll be. I managed to duck them at lunch again, but I'm not sure how long _that_ luck will last...today is _not_ a day that I'm willing to put up with their…

Oh. Huh. That was a...familiar feeling…

Yes. Because I didn't have enough to worry about today, now I'm going to have to focus past my powers' insistence that I go in _that particular direction no time to wait_. Another shrine? Why would I be feeling it _now_? Why would I be feeling it at _all_? What did I get myself into with this damned Mark? Most importantly, why the fuck did I decide coming back to school was a good idea?

The bell rings. Another class ends. I try not to let the ringing get to me, but the pressure makes it feel like I should be fighting a headache, so it's just _disorienting_...enough that I almost walk right into the ring of girls outside.

Guess they got tired of chasing me around.

I feel strangely divorced from myself, standing there, surrounded. As they start talking to each other. I suppose they think it's clever, but none of them bother to pretend they're not watching me from the corners of their eyes, just waiting for a reaction. Emma isn't even _that_ discreet.

She probably coached them, because they hit every point. Really driving it home, too...my looks, my hair, my dating prospects. A passing mention of the locker, that's surprising. And then my mother...my mother.

I could call up some rats, and see what they thought then. See if they could still laugh and smile, covered in a swarm of teeth and claws. Or I could just _leave_ , disappear into nothing and leave them all circled around a smudge of ash and wondering what the hell just happened. And then maybe wondering if it was such a good idea to taunt a cape.

It's not worth it. Yes, words hurt, no matter what anyone says. Even when they're barely even registering, I can feel their sting. But getting shot hurt more, and between that mess yesterday and the _pressure_ in my head, this is a passing annoyance more than anything else. When the day's over, I'll go out and be a hero, and they'll go home and do _homework._

...you know what? Screw this place.

"Are you done yet?"

Emma smiles. It's a pretty smile. I bet she practices it in the mirror. She used to to do that, trying to get the poses just right. 'I'm gonna be a model'. "Nobody was talking to _you_ , Taylor."

Yeah, this isn't going to end quickly 's fine. I pick out the weakest link in their little circle, brush past them with a little more force than necessary. They're quicker than I thought, because something catches my foot as I take my next step.

I hit the ground.

"Aww, Taylor, are you okay?"

"What a klutz. No wonder she wound up in the hospital…"

I _breathe_.

And then I pick myself up. I keep walking. Not toward my next class. I head for the front doors, and the _second_ they close behind me, I'm on the school's roof.

I scrub at my eyes as I pull my glasses off, keep _breathing_ , steady, calm, as I retrieve my bag from where I'd hidden it and start to change. I'm not crying. But a few tears are still more than I should give them. My mask wicks the damp away from my cheeks, and I hook a finger through the hole in the front of my sweatshirt. Proof that I've handled worse.

What I'm doing here, this is important. This matters. I'm making a difference, even if it's small. And they couldn't hope to stop me. In the end, all _they_ have are words.

Right now, I've got more important things to worry about.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

It takes a lot longer to find this one. I think...I was feeling it from further away? I'm not sure. The first time this happened, everything was so hazy, like a dream. This is different; the sensation is _insistent_ , but not as overwhelming. Which is strange, because I would have thought that a more powerful...whatever...wouldn't that cause a stronger reaction?

Something to wonder about later. For now, I need to figure out how to get into the basement level of an office building.

I sit on the roof, eyes closed as I send flies and cockroaches _down_. Scouting a path to the basement, then finding an open space near the shrine, a place that's out of the way and free of any witnesses. It's...actually not as hard as I would have thought. So I stand, and try to visualize the space I'm feeling through the bugs' limited senses-

-and when I open my eyes, I'm there. Easy.

It's hot down here, and I can hear the...yeah, that's a furnace. Right, have to heat the building somehow. Makes perfect sense. Now, where's the shrine? I must have gotten turned around, because it's not...ah. I weave around support beams and big, square machines that are probably important somehow, spot the shrine stuck awkwardly in a far corner.

I don't hesitate to approach it. And I'm fully cognizant, as I reach out and pick up the Rune that rested at its center.

Just like the other one. An irregular circle, slightly bigger than my palm. Curved, slightly. Thin, too, almost fragile, but the metal fittings its bolted into it give it a deceptive sort of weightiness. And burned into its surface...I didn't have a chance to get a good look, before, but it looks like a compass rose. The kind you'd see on _really_ old maps, set into a series of concentric circles and surrounded by lettering I don't recognize.

I turn it over in my hands...look up, when I realize that I'm not alone.

"Another shrine...this one was hastily assembled, when the last was abandoned." The Outsider drifts in place, darkness gathered around him. "You did well, finding it. Even if the decision wasn't entirely yours. Even if you were... _pushed_."

I swallow, and adjust my grip on the Rune. The _noise_ is gone, now, and I can't help but cringe as clarity returns. 'Pushed'. I skipped out of school _again_. And I...after I _told_ Victoria that I'd leave these things alone...

"What _are_ these things? Why do I keep _reacting_ to them, like this?"

"I've already told you what they _are_." A hint of disapproval, but it's enough to set my teeth on edge. "But the _why_...the why is something I'm curious about as well." He spreads his arms wide, the disinterested expression not quite _meshing_ with his tone. "I gave you _power_. I did not decide how that power would manifest. It was always a question. Would you see them in the darkness, no matter the distance. Would you require some tool, in order to find them so readily? Would you simply be left stumbling along, blind to their importance?"

He gestures at the Rune, and I hold it a bit tighter without meaning to. "In the end, it seems...you simply _know_. When it becomes appropriate...this reaction is intriguing. And unique. That is the _purpose_ of my Mark, but I have been disappointed, in the past."

The Mark. I swallow, another question spilling out before I can think about it. "Is it true that other people can't see it?"

His head tilts, just slightly...and then he's gone, and my eyes ache as they adjust to the dimness of the basement. That...didn't make sense. There hadn't been any light…

Ugh. More questions than answers, and the answers I _do_ have are useless. I look up at the shrine again, frown as I reach up to yank another little thing of carved bone off the length of twine that it had been hung with, suspended over the center of the shrine. The Outsider had said they were meant to be 'good luck charms'. I don't know if I buy that, but there's definitely something going on with them, so I might as well hold onto it.

I could use a little good luck.

Though, with the way things have been going, it'll probably just bring me _more_ trouble.

No...no, I'm not going to stand in some too-warm basement and be cynical. Not when I could be going home and taking a hot shower and just _forgetting_ about the last couple of days.

Yeah. That's a good plan.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Victoria is pacing outside my front door. I didn't know that people _actually_ paced...no, that's not important. I shake the thought off as I appear in my room, focus on pulling off my mask and sweatshirt. Also, _crap_ , I'm going to have to hide these things. Why don't I keep shoe-boxes? Don't people normally hide this kind of thing in a shoe-box? No, that's probably a bad idea…

I wind up wrapping the Rune in an old shirt and stuffing it in the back of my closet. The charm I stick in the drawer of my desk...a glance at the clock (only four? I thought I'd been out longer…) and then I'm at the front door, working the locks open.

Victoria practically bowls me over when I _do_ get the door open. "Christ, you need a cell-phone. Where the hell have you been?"

"Oh, it's nice to see you too, Victoria. Yes, come right in. How was my day? No worse than usual, you?"

"Are you trying to be funny? Because it's not funny."

I pause, and look at her for a second...she's...really upset. I nudge the door shut again, face her again...yeah. I haven't seen _this_ yet. I mean, I know I've only known her a few days, but still. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

She lets out a strangled laugh. " _Oh yeah_ , something happened. That _bitch_ Tattletale is what happened."

Huh. Regret is just as terrible the next day. "What?"

"The Undersiders and some new guys robbed a bank, they took hostages when the Wards showed up, but _Amy_ was there-"

Wait, "Your sister?" That would explain the agitation, and _shit_ now I've got an extra helping of guilt on top of everything else. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know!" Wow, she's _literally_ pulling at her hair. "She ran off, and none of us can find her!"

She...alright, this isn't helping anything. "Slow down." There's a problem. Obviously. but if I'm going to help I need to actually know what it is. "Take a deep breath, and start from the top."

Victoria stares at me for a second, before taking a shaky breath. "Right...right. So, I get a text, earlier. Amy's in Bay Central, because she _insists_ on managing those stupid donation accounts in person, and the _Undersiders_ had shown up and started threatening people. They had more Capes with them, but I didn't recognize any of them. So then the Wards showed up, because the place is, like, right next to Arcadia, and so then they were taking _hostages_ …"

Her fists clench, and she takes another deep breath. "And the Wards are just _waiting_ , and D... _Gallant_...keeps trying to wave me off, but it was my _sister_ in there, you know? So I bust in, and take down some guy in a top hat, but then Tattletale has this big monster thing grab Amy, and sticks a _gun_ in her face. And then she started…" She trails off, looks away. "Talking. About stuff. Screwing with Amy's head, trying to get me to back down or something..."

' _Maybe convince your high-flying friend not to break us in half...'_

Oh, shit. Had she...did she _plan that?_ But how could she have-? No, wait, stupid question. _Thinker_.

"I met with the Undersiders yesterday."

"...what?"

Talk fast, Taylor. "I got a message, yesterday, from Tattletale. She wanted to meet, and I went." I gesture vaguely in the direction of my room. "Grue wanted to thank me for helping them the other night,, but Tattletale wanted to make some kind of agreement." How had she put it? "Like...a non-aggression pact or something. She said I was making enemies with the gangs, and that I was...I was probably getting on the bad-side of the PRT, too. That I was hurting people…"

"She was screwing with you." Victoria snarls, immediately, and I flinch. "Did you...what the _fuck_ Taylor? What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything." I try not to get defensive. I could be gone before she could reach me. "They gave me some money for helping with Oni-Lee, they talked, and I left. They're _villains_ …" She relaxes...or, at least, she doesn't look like she's about to hit me. "And it wasn't like I could take them down. They had Hellhound with them."

"Of _course_ they did."

"Look, the important thing is, Tattletale specifically mentioned me asking you 'not to break them in half'." Her eyes narrow. "Exactly. And she's _definitely_ some kind of Thinker, right? She knew where I was when she messaged me, and spotted me hiding on a roof three blocks away…"

"She... _knew_ things. Or seemed to, anyway." She picks up where I left off. "Claimed to be 'psychic' or some bullshit, but she knew about…" She trails off, before finishing lamely with, "things."

I'm starting to wonder what the hell has her so unwilling to talk about it. "What 'things'?"

She grits her teeth. " _Personal_ things."

Right. That's...fair. "Do you think she might have planned it like that? That she knew they'd be running into you?"

"I don't know. Maybe?" She turns, brows furrowing...her fists clench again, and for a second I'm seriously concerned for the safety of my house. "That _bitch."_ And then the glare is back on me, and I have to freeze. "And _you_ went to go _meet_ with them! What the hell were you _thinking_!?"

Don't say 'it seemed like a good idea'. Because that wouldn't help at all. "That I might be able to get something useful out of it." And actually, it may _have_ been useful. "And I did. Kind of. Like confirmation that Tattletale knows a _lot_ more than she should. And that they're scared of you."

A long moment, and then she snorts, and turns away. "Well they should be."

Silence. I shift uncomfortably, trying to figure out what to _do_. "...do you need help looking for Amy? Because I'm not sure how much I could actually offer."

"I…" She glances back at me, then shakes her head, palms her face. "No, shit. _Shit_. She'll...we checked everywhere we could think of already. She...she's gonna be fine. And she'll...come home, again."

I don't know enough to comment. But even _I_ can tell that she's not entirely convinced of that. "So? How can I help?"

She turns again, looks at me. "...you know what? You _can_ help." She smiles. And it's not a nice expression. "I'm gonna need a hand finding these _assholes_ so I can deal with'em. _Personally_."

Well...at least it's a goal I can stand behind. I nod, sharply, and offer a smile of my own.

"So when do we start?"

"What, immediately isn't an option?"

...so maybe we should talk through this a bit more. And I should probably start thinking before acting. Because I think I'm noticing a disturbing trend in my recent behavior toward the stupid and reckless.

"Maybe not _immediately_ …"

"Tch. Fine. How about, like, tomorrow. How well can you fake being sick?"

"..."

"What? We might need to get out of school for a few days!"

"...how about we go _talk_ about our plan for tracking down and apprehending a group of dangerous supervillains?"

"Take all the fun out of things, why don't you?"

It's going to be a long week.


	9. Chapter 7

It isn't hard to convince my dad I need to miss school. I dropped a few comments about 'not feeling well' last night, left my dinner half-finished, and went to bed early. Come morning, I stumbled past him and into the bathroom before he could claim it, and left him with the clear impression that I must have picked up a bug from somewhere.

I didn't even have to suggest staying home from school. He suggested it immediately, and I spent the rest of the morning huddled in my bed while I waited for him to work his way through his morning routine and leave for work.

That was about ten minutes ago. Enough time, I think, to be fairly sure he's not about to turn around because he forgot something. So I slip out of bed, work through a few stretches, and swap my pajamas for my 'costume'. Which I really need to fix. Huh. I have some money to work with now, don't I? Alright, so that's moved up the list.

I dig my bat out of my closet and inspect it for a second; just making sure the...grip? The grip is still taped up, and that there aren't any major dents or dings that I hadn't noticed before. It's all good, so I'm…

Well...not quite good to go. I consider, for a long second, then toss the bat on my bed and move to my desk for the charm.

Still there. Still the same, weird, wishbone-looking...thing. I turn it over, pick at the metal caps that cover the ends of the bone protrusions. They're on there pretty tight, and the center thing where everything is mounted feels just as sturdy. It's got those little buckle-things on it, so...a belt? Yeah. That would work.

I manage to dig one up, and thread the charm onto it with a little trial and error. After some consideration, I lift my sweatshirt up and strap it around my middle, so that the charm is resting above the small of my back. When I've got everything settled again, it's covered entirely by my clothes, and shouldn't be too easy to spot even if something rides up.

So...I've got my good luck charm, too. _God_ I feel stupid, now.

"Time to go." I grumble, grabbing my bat again before 'porting out.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

I wind up waiting on a rooftop downtown for almost twenty minutes. Figures. Even with how gung-ho she seems about this, Victoria really hasn't struck me as the type to stick to a plan...not that I have much room to talk.

That depressing thought gets pushed aside when I finally spot her, arcing through the air from somewhere toward the bay. She's actually pretty fast in the air; I wonder, for a second, just what sort of speeds she can reach. But then she's landing, and I have to scramble to catch _something_ as she tosses it at me.

"Sorry I'm late. It's kinda hard to duck out of an electronics store." She winces. " _So many cameras_ …"

"Thought you liked the spotlight." I spout off without thinking, still focused on the... _phone_. That's what it is. "A cell phone? Really?"

"It's a prepaid. Hardly what _I'd_ call a 'phone'. But I'll be able to actually _reach_ you, so keep it on you, huh?" That said, she lifts into the air again. "Now c'mon. We're goin' to the bank."

"Whoa, wait-" And...she's gone. _Great_. I jog to the edge of the roof and jump after her, picking a good spot across the street to 'land' and hitting the spot a moment later. Victoria ( _Glory Girl_ in costume, really have to remember that) is still ahead of me, and it doesn't look like she's about to slow down, so I resign myself to playing catch-up.

It had better not be like this all day. Because I'm not sure I like working with her enough to put up with _that_. Not that I haven't...actually dragged her around for hours myself. In the middle of the night. Right into a fight.

 _Dammit_.

Luckily she'd arranged for us to _meet_ downtown; Bay Central wasn't particularly far away, and after almost losing track of her a couple of times, I _do_ eventually get there. She's hovering above a rooftop across the street from the bank; apparently, _now_ she'd decided to wait for me. Impatiently.

"You know, I get that this is important…" I brush myself off as I arrive, wincing at the momentary, phantom ache in my hand, "...but you know I can only move so fast."

She glares, for a second, but then there's a flash of regret, and she drops to her feet. "Yeah, sorry." She doesn't _sound_ very sorry, but I'll take what I can get. "Look, yesterday, they got away on Hellhounds dogs, right?" She gestures at a section of the roof not far from us; there are some pretty distinct impressions left there. Considering the size of those things and the way they jumped around, it wasn't surprising they tore into...whatever it is rooftops were made of. "I figure we can follow their tracks, see where it leads us. Go from there."

Not a bad plan. It's more than I had to offer, anyway. "Okay. But can we maybe take it a little slower?" She gives me a _look_ , but I don't back down. "They're probably already...laying low. Or something. So we're not in any kind of rush, right?"

"Ugh...fine. Yeah. You're right." She crosses her arms, the lifts up again. "I'm gonna go look around, see if I can figure out which direction we're going."

"Alright. Let me know what you find."

She goes straight up, before drifting off to one side; I watch her go, then shake my head and move to have a look at the _bank_.

It's a mess. The entrance is closed off with yellow tape, the front windows covered in tarps. The street out front is pretty torn up; Victoria mentioned _another_ 'big monster thing' that was working with the Undersiders, so there was that, and whatever Hellhound's dogs brought to bear…

 _Villains_. How many people could have been hurt, here? How much money was this going to cost the city to fix? Money that _wasn't_ going toward other things. That was the problem, wasn't it? So much time and energy spent patching up the latest mess that there was nothing left to actually _solve_ anything.

I turn away, loosen my white-knuckle grip on my bat, and move to the spot where the dogs must have landed. Or jumped from. There are...they must be claw-marks, dug into the surface. And, actually...I move back to the edge, and the more shallow grooves there.

As I step off, I turn to face the building's side, and _yep_ , there are gouges there too. I get my feet back under me beside the first set of marks, just thinking it through. They could jump, obviously, but they could also climb. So they weren't quite as limited as far as movement went. Not exactly a helpful observation, since it didn't actually _narrow_ our search, but it was good to know, at least…

"Hey!" I look up, see Glory Girl waving from a few dozen feet up. "Over here!"

Right. Guess we've found our trail.

With one last glance toward the bank, I disappear after her.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

We finally slow down around lunch. Equal parts hunger and having exhausted whatever 'lead' we'd gotten by retracing the Undersiders' steps. Personally, I hadn't been expecting much there; Hellhounds dogs weren't _always_ giants that could carry people across the city. And they obviously weren't _stupid_. They weren't going to leave a nice trail to their hideout or anything…

Glory Girl, of course, is a bit more upset about the whole thing.

"It's _pissing me off_ , you know? I mean, these guys, this is what they _do_ , because they know they can't even take on the Wards in a straight fight, you know? And that was with _help_. They're cowards, y'know?"

I mutter something noncommittal into my burger. Better to just let her get it out of her system than to start an argument. Although…"Did you find anything out about who those other Capes were?"

She looks a bit sullen, then, reaching for her drink and just chewing on the straw for a minute. "Yeah. They're some out-of-town group. 'The Travelers', or something." That's another group I'll need to look into, then. "Why the hell they were teaming up with these assholes, though, I got _no_ idea...jeeze, as if there weren't _enough_ villains in Brockton Bay…"

"Yeah."

Quiet. I eat my lunch, she eats hers, it's all very _companionable_. Would be better if we weren't both so wound up over this crap.

"...your sister come home, yet?"

She flinches. That'd be a 'no'. "Not yet."

Well. As far as conversation starters go, that was probably one of the worse ones I could have chosen. This is why I don't have any friends. Well...that, and the bullying. Because who could forget that?

More silence. I finish my burger and wad the wrapper up, stuffing it in the takeout bag to throw away later.

"You settle on a name, yet?"

She's much better at this than I am. Obviously. "No." And not for lack of trying. I can't even settle on a single theme, let alone a name I actually like…

She smirks. "Gonna just settle on Crow, then?"

" _No_."

"Aww, c'mon. It's kinda growin' on me."

"Well it's not growing on me." I make sure to _really_ scowl at her, and her smirk turns into a smile as she laughs. "I'll figure something out."

" _Before_ someone else sticks you with something you'll hate."

"That's the idea."

She shakes her head and settles again. Much more relaxed. "Yeah, well. Whatever. Maybe once you _finally_ get that in order, you can work on fixing that mess you call a costume."

I roll my eyes, manage a smug smile of my own. "I _do_ have some money to spend, now."

It takes her a second, but then her eyes widen, and her smile goes sharp. "Ha! _Yes_. We get you set up quick enough, then you can start kicking villain ass in _style_ , and it'll be because _they_ footed the bill."

"There's some irony for you."

"Yeah, that's it. ' _Irony'_. 'S perfect." She nods, then gathers up what little is left of her food and shoves it in the bag with the rest of the trash. "Right now, though, we've got some bank-robbers to track down."

Yeah. Right. This. I sigh, and stand. "Yeah, okay. But I need to keep an eye on the time; I need to be back home before my dad is."

"Yeah, sure. We can break, get some rest, and meet up again tonight."

That...wasn't what I'd meant. But…"Sounds like a plan."

"Awesome. Let's go!"

I wish _I_ had that sort of energy.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

The afternoon wasn't...very productive. The most exciting thing that happened was a mugging we came across by accident. But once that was taken care of, it was nothing but wandering around and sort of vaguely hoping we'd spot them.

At least, that had been Glory Girl's plan. I really wish I'd asked about that _before_ we spent hours on a wild goose chase.

I'd declared a break, at that point. A good thing, too, because I'd just barely gotten settled back home when dad walked in the door. I watch him move around downstairs. Could tell, from the way he slumped at the kitchen table, that it hadn't been a good day at the docks.

Not many _good_ days though, were there? My mind goes back to the mess outside the bank. What it represents…

Dad's outside my door. I close my eyes and relax, and listen to him as he looks in...breathe. I'm asleep. Nothing to worry about.

The door closes. I sigh, and press the heels of my hands into my eyes until I see stars.

He's back in the kitchen. Probably going to be up for awhile. But...I can't bring myself to actually sleep.

So I spend a few hours like that. Being quiet. Watching the ceiling. Watching dad fix food, and agonize over paperwork, and finally, _finally_ , go to bed, himself.

It's quiet in the house, so I move slowly. Dress. Secure my mask, my bat, my good luck charm (which _still_ sounds stupid, even in my head). This time, instead of running off to the meeting immediately, I text Victoria on the phone she'd forced on me.

' _Ready to go.'_

I'm half a mile away from home when it buzzes at me.

' _Finaly. meetup same place new idea.'_

Got something to look forward to then, I guess…

The sun _just_ set, but it's dark enough for everything to look different. I don't much mind it, though. And it's not exactly hard to find my destination, considering it's the only rooftop anywhere near here with a superhero hanging around on it. Probably. _Maybe_ …

"Hey."

She jumps a foot in the air and stays there, whirling to face me. I wonder if maybe I shouldn't have appeared _behind_ her…

"Holy _crap_ , don't do that! What's _wrong_ with you?"

I consider her for a second, scuff a heel. "You... _do_ know you're invulnerable, right? That's a part of your power?" She scowls. I smirk. "So, what's your 'new idea'?"

She holds the glare for another few seconds, then rolls her eyes and drops again. "Okay, so I was thinking earlier, just wandering around was pretty useless. So we need to, y'know, organize." Alright. That definitely sounds better than wandering aimlessly. "So I was thinking we could work out, like, a grid-search or something."

…

"Do you...have you ever actually tried to find villains like this, before?"

She flies up and punches me in the shoulder. "No. Now shut up and help me figure this out." A pause. "Please."

Well, she did say 'please'. I rub my shoulder, wince, and try to offer _something_ useful. "Okay. Well...we searched around the docks earlier, right? So...we'll do a more thorough search downtown, maybe. Keep high, keep an eye out...hope for the best, I guess." Which is...overly optimistic. "You...know we're probably not gonna find anything, right?"

"...yeah, maybe." She pulls a face. "But somebody's gonna find them, right? And I want to be first."

Right. Because apparently they _really_ pissed her off. And threatened her sister...I guess I'd be just as pissed, if somebody had taken my _dad_ hostage. "I guess that makes sense." A moment of awkward silence, and I shoulder my bat. "So, let's go?"

She grins.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Two muggings, a drug deal, and one straight-up _beating_ broken up, and we finally move into some more familiar territory. A patrol, rather than a manhunt. I don't mind it, and I think Glory Girl is a little more relaxed now that she's had a chance to blow off some steam.

"So, favorite moment?"

I consider, padding along the roof's edge. "I think...my second week out. There was this guy trying to break into a car, so I teleported inside and shouted at him through the window." It...really had seemed like a completely reasonable idea at the time. "He almost knocked himself out trying to run away."

She laughs, and darts across the street. I follow, and keep walking while she does a quick sweep from higher up.

Nothing, since she's not flying off to deal with it. I guess that's a good thing?

She's back, then, and looking thoughtful. "I _think_...one of my favorites is the time, like, five guys just surrendered the second I showed up." She grins. "That was a pretty cool day. Went out and treated myself to ice-cream, too."

Heh. "Reward for a job well done, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. You've gotta take care of yourself first, y'know? Otherwise, what's the point, right?"

"Saving people?"

"Besides that, I mean." She huffed. "You know what I mean. If you don't enjoy what you're doing, then you're doing something wrong, yeah?"

I shake my head, pause as I reach the next corner. "Sounds about right." I can't imagine ever... _not_ enjoying my powers, or helping people, but I guess...maybe it's not the same for other people. I don't know…

A sharp _snap_ draws my attention, and Glory Girl drifts up a few feet as something _crackles_. "The hell?"

"Check it out?"

"You know it." She takes off, and I hit the next rooftop over to set myself up for a longer 'jump'. The noise isn't hard to follow, but it cuts out quickly, so I'm not sure...ah. There's Glory Girl, waving for my attention. When I hold up my bat in answer, she points down. Not another roof; street level. Alright then.

I'm on the sidewalk a few seconds later, and she comes in to land beside me, casting a wary glance over her shoulder. "There's some transformers back here. I thought I spotted someone, but it might have been my imagination."

That noise...electricity? "Do we call somebody? If someone's out here screwing with the power…"

"Yeah, maybe. Think we should take a look, just in case?"

I'm a little hesitant, but it's probably a good idea. "Yeah. Sure, let's check it out."

"Alright, lemme give you a lift." I look at her for a second, and she rolls her eyes. "It'll be quicker. Now c'mon." Right. Just going to let her carry me.

It's not comfortable. I am _very_ glad to get my feet back under me, even with a barbed-wire topped fence and humming, dangerous machines all around me. Glory Girl smirks at me, as I straighten out my sweatshirt, and I offer the best glare I can. She just sticks her tongue out, the taps beneath her eyes and waves toward me.

I snort, and enhance my vision as I look around. Nobody seems to be hanging around, except for a couple of people in the buildings on either side of the lot. "Nobody around."

"Well, I guess that's something, then." She settles on the ground and cracks her neck. "I'd _have hated to have to fight in here, you know? High-voltage isn't anybody's-whoa!"_

 _There's another crackle, and I turn, get a glimpse at something bright and-_

 _ **PAIN**_ _._

 _I can't move. I can't breathe. Someone is screaming. I don't think it's me. I don't_ _ **think**_ _._

 _I-_

"-have hated to have to fight in-hey, what's wro-"

I dive at her, and my only thought is _away_. We hit something solid and hard and I _shake_ and behind us there's a deafening noise. Thunder. _Lightning_. Electricity...I can _feel_ myself seizing up, shaking, and when Glory Girl pushes me off of her I can't even catch myself.

"What the f...holy shit, Tay...Cro... _fuck_ , whatever! What's wrong!?"

I taste blood. Probably because I'm biting my lip. It... _really_ hurts. But it's _real_ pain. I can feel it, now. Not the burning, blinding pain from before. I can focus on it. _Think._ And, slowly, I stop shaking. Mostly. Enough that I can free my lip and sit myself up...catch my breath. Stop panicking. "What...did you…?" No, she wouldn't be wondering what was wrong if she'd _seen_...seen.

Had I just seen the future?

"The…" I wince, spit out a mouthful of blood, and shake my head to try and clear it. "The transformers were...they blew up."

"No _shit_ they blew up!" She hisses, looking around until she spots the plume of dark smoke rising up...we're on the roof I'd _been_ on, before I went down to the street. We're here because...because I wanted us away from that. Away from the explosion that I'd known was coming. "Holy _shit,_ that could've been us…"

"It was." It was. I saw it. I _felt_ it...the _pain_ …"It _was_ us." Until it wasn't. Because I...took us away.

What the _hell_ is…

I feel something _pull_ , like one of my powers, only stronger. And instead of my hand, it's focused at my back. For a few, long seconds, I puzzle that out. But then I make the connection.

"What do you mean 'it was us'?"

A good luck charm. Holy _shit_ , that's...I reach back, just to _feel_ it, still sitting there. That's...that's one _hell_ of a ' _good luck charm'_...

"What's wrong? Seriously, you're freaking me out here. Did you hit your head or something?"

Right...right, Victoria. "I'm...no. No, I didn't." Can I stand? It...seems like it. "...I lost my bat."

She barks out a laugh, pulling on my arm to keep me steady. "I'll buy you a new one. God, that could have been _bad_. Who the hell…" Her smile fades quickly, as she looks around again. I follow her gaze...oh. Right. No lights. Because...no electricity. " _Shit_. Somebody blew that place up, didn't they? This is...this is bad." She looks at me again. "Hey, sit back down, okay? I need to make a call. Just catch your breath, or something."

Now that I think about it, that's pretty good advice...I slump down again, draw my legs up so I can rest my head on my knees.

That's the second time in...what? Three days? Four? That I nearly died.

In this case...I think I _did_.

There's another _boom_ , in the distance, and I hear Victoria curse.

I guess the night's not over yet.


	10. Interlude: Victoria

Victoria wasn't in a good mood. But then, nobody else was either, so she didn't see the point in trying to fake it. Even if it was... _kind_ of pathetic, moping up in her room. No phone. No computer. Because she was on 'lockdown' until her parents got home.

Her mom had _grounded her_. While some crazy Tinker was setting off bombs all over the city, her scumbag boss had gotten out of PRT custody. _Lung_ was out on the street again, the ABB were probably parading around like they owned the place, and _she_ was _grounded_. It was ridiculous. Her _whole family_ was out there, pitching in, putting themselves in danger…

And she was sitting in her room, and trying to distract herself with an old magazine.

It wasn't working.

And it was just...it was so stupid. Because if _she_ hadn't been out with Taylor last night, New Wave wouldn't have been the first ones out taking care of things. They would have been... _sleeping_ , is what. Might not have even heard anything until the next morning. And what good would _any_ of them have been, then?

About as much good as _she_ was right now.

She let out a disgusted huff, tossed the magazine aside, and rolled off her bed. If she wasn't going to be doing anything, she might as well not do anything on a full stomach.

It was too quiet in the house. It was always _quiet_ , and it wasn't usually a problem, but with nobody home it was _worse_. She wound up turning on the TV on her way through the living room, just to have a little noise while she fixed her food.

Stupid. It made her feel like a little kid.

She _wasn't_ a little kid. She had _super powers_. She'd fought thugs and villains without any trouble, and her mom was fine with that. She'd snuck out before, and had never gotten more than a talking to. But when her breaking the rules was so _obviously helpful_ for once, her mom flew off the handle. Because, what, she'd had a close call with a bomb? She was _invulnerable_.

 _Taylor_ had been the one freaking out about it. She wasn't a brute, so _she_ would have been the one to get hurt. Or killed. If she hadn't gotten jumpy, teleported them out…

Oh, she didn't want to think about what would have happened, then.

So of course, she spent about five minutes thinking about it. Taylor, being _dead_. Having to tell people about it...jeeze. Her dad had been really nice, and he had _no_ idea. She couldn't even imagine having to break that sort of news…

The front door opened, and she shook herself out of her thoughts, realized that she'd already fixed her food, and grabbed the plate to take with her. If it was just mom or dad she could probably…

"...Amy."

It was Amy. She was back. Oh, _thank god_ she was back.

"Hey, Vicky."

It took a serious effort not to drop the stupid plate, then and there; instead, she flew it over to the coffee table (breaking about six house rules in the process) before darting back over to _hug her sister_.

"Oof! Hey, watch it…"

"No way. You deserve a super-hug after what you did." What she did... _running away_. The thought turned relief into anger, and she settled back on her feet to step back. "What the hell were you thinking!? I've been...we were _freaking out_ , Ames! You were just...when you didn't come home...and freaking Bakuda! You could've been-"

"Vicky."

She stopped. Swallowed down the anger ( _worry_ ) with a bit of effort...and actually took a look at her sister. "Christ, you look like shit."

Amy's serious expression broke, for a second, and she felt like things were going to be good. She was _smiling_ and she was _home_ and it'd be _fine_ …

"I've been at the hospital since this morning." That tiny smile went away, and Victoria felt the frustration return. "Because of the bombs, the power outages...there are a lot of people hurt."

"There always are...Jeeze, Amy, you couldn't even...you couldn't take a break after-" A pause, and she cringed. "After the bank?"

"No." Amy sighed, and shook her head, and just looked...tired. People their age weren't supposed to look tired like that. "I _did_. But with all this stuff...I can't just leave it. People need me there."

"Yeah, well there's people _here_ that need you."

She flinched, and Victoria almost kicked herself for that. "...I just came back for some things."

That...took a few seconds to process. And then she felt her stomach twist. "What?"

"..." Amy sighed, rubbed at her face. "I'm going to be staying somewhere else, for a little while. Just until I can get my head on straight-"

"You can't leave again!" She _couldn't_ , everybody had been freaking out the first time, and now she was _back_..."C'mon, Ames, this is stupid, why don't you just...I don't _care_ , you know. You're my sister…"

"Except I'm not, am I?"

Dammit. _Dammit_. "That's bullshit and you know it! Just because some manipulative _bitch_ supervillain spouts off some crap about...that doesn't change anything! She was probably lying, anyway! She was _threatening you with a gun…"_

"Vicky, can you please tone it down?"

"What-oh... _shit_." She'd been shouting at her. That...that wasn't cool. "I'm sorry. _Sorry_ , I'm just...all this crap, and then I got grounded because I was out last night trying to find the Undersiders, and then Taylor almost died _again_ from one of Bakuda's bombs-"

"I get it." Amy bit out. "It's been a crazy couple of days...which is part of why I need to work things out."

"But…"

"It's not like I'm moving out of the city. I'm not even _moving_. It's just going to be a few days. A week at most." She smiled, but it didn't look good. That, if anything, only made Victoria feel worse. "It's not a big deal."

It _was_ a big deal. Because it wasn't just Amy visiting a friend, or being out at the hospital on one of the days she was _supposed_ to take off. She was... _avoiding_ them. And all because some jumped-up Thinker had decided to screw with her head? It was...that wasn't _right_ …

But Amy was so _tired_ , and if she was upset enough to run away like she had, then...then she deserved some space. The chance to work through things...right? "Just a week?"

"I promise."

A week. "Can you at least...at least tell me where you're staying?"

She sighed, and nodded. "One of the nurses at the Hospital. I...told her that I needed a place to stay for a little while." Another tiny smile. "She's letting me sleep on her couch."

That...that was good. A little weird, but Amy had built up a lot of goodwill over there. So maybe it made sense. "Okay." She wasn't on the street, or hanging around with some stranger or anything. A nurse. Nurses were usually okay people, right? "Are you gonna stay for a little while, at least? I just made some lunch. Could whip you something up, huh?"

"I've, uh…" That didn't sound like a yes. "My cab is waiting outside...I was really just gonna grab a couple of things. Didn't think anybody was going to be home."

Right. Because she was...avoiding her family. _Right_.

"Sorry...I…" A cab. _God_ , she could have asked. Victoria would have flown her home and back again. She _had_ to know that. "I won't distract you, then."

"...thanks, Vicky."

Amy disappeared upstairs. Victoria moved over to the couch, and sat down to poke at her food. It didn't seem particularly appetizing.

She turned the TV up, so that she couldn't hear the footsteps above her. When she realized that she was 'watching' another news report about the bombings, she almost shattered the remote turning it off again. Then the quiet was back, except for Amy moving around her room. Probably packing things into that godawful pink-and-white backpack she still hadn't gotten rid of…

And back down the stairs. She'd be out the door in a second…Victoria nearly panicked, for a moment.

"I don't care, you know."

The footsteps stopped, and she turned around to see Amy, standing there. With that backpack. She almost smiled, at that, but couldn't bring herself to actually go through with it.

"Even if that bitch was telling the truth, I don't care." She'd been _thinking_ about this one, so it wasn't hard to reach a decision. Not with Amy walking out the door. "You're not _his_ daughter...you're _my_ sister."

It got quiet. She sat there, and bit her lip, and waiting for...something. Anything.

"...I'll see you at school. Okay, Vicky?"

Still leaving. That...that was fine. "Yeah. 'Course."

The door opened, and shut, and Victoria stared down at her plate.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

It took four days before Aunt Sarah could convince her mom to let her out after school, again. Four days, and she was sending what had to be text number twelve to Taylor's crappy little pre-paid phone.

It took her _four days_ to bother typing out _four words_. ' _I'll see you there.'_

'There' being the place Victoria had just asked her to. Of course _that_ was the one that she replied to. No, she couldn't have bothered to say she was alright, or that yes, she knew that Bakuda was still a nutjob, or maybe 'Oh man, your sister came back for five minutes and then left again that sucks'...

Nope. Just...I'll see you there.

She _sure as hell_ was going to see her there.

In fact, Victoria arrived a good ten minutes earlier than she'd intended to, not even bothering to stop and grab her costume from home. And she stood there, waiting. And waiting.

Until, finally, that soft _whuff_ of Taylor's teleportation sounded from behind her, and she could turn to chastise her _properly_ …

"...God dammit." What the hell was going on, lately? Had the whole world just gone crazy? Why the hell did everyone…"What the hell happened to you?"

Taylor hadn't bothered with her 'mask', so it was easy to see the dark circles under her eyes, see _just_ how pale and scraggly she was. And judging from the way it took her so long to answer the question, "I haven't slept."

Yep. "Seems to be a lot of that going around." Taylor just looked confused, but she didn't feel like explaining at the moment. "Is it the Bakuda thing? _Dammit_ , I knew I should have talked to mom about that. I can't believe she just sent you home. I can't believe she _grounded me_ , you need to talk through that crap-"

What is that?

Is that…no. No, she fucking _didn't_.

It took a... _serious_ effort not to reach out and haul her off her feet by her collar. Considering how scrawny she was, it wouldn't even be that hard. "What the _hell_ , Taylor? You...did you take that out of our _garbage_?"

"No." Taylor just stared, and held out the creepy bone-thing that Victoria _knew_ she'd thrown away. "I found another one. At another shrine...looking thing." That...there were more of those? "The day you showed up at my house again. I'd started...feeling it, during school, and I had to skip out of the last few periods to go find it…"

"You _had to_!?" Victoria was _really_ trying to keep her voice down, but her newest (and at this point most _irritating_ ) friend was making it _very difficult_. "Are you _kidding me_? You _promised_ me that…" No, this wasn't happening. "Give it to me."

The way she clutched the thing closer was ringing all kinds of warning bells in Victoria's head...

"This thing is the only reason we're not both dead."

...what? "The hell does that mean?"

Taylor shifted, and swallowed, and something was so _obviously_ wrong that she almost just took the damn thing off of her while she was distracted. "Just before the bomb, I had a...a vision. Just a few seconds. But I saw it go off. And…and it _hurt_. It hurt, and I heard screaming, and then we were walking right into it again."

A...vision? She remembered, definitely, how everything had been fine...and then Taylor had freaked, and teleported them away. Victoria had _thought_ that maybe she'd just...heard the bomb ticking or something. Saw it, maybe. Well...apparently she _had_ seen it. "You're a precog?"

"No." She shook her head, and lifted the bone-thing. " _This_ was pulling on my power...this thing gave me just enough warning to save both of our lives."

No way. "I am _so_ not buying that." Taylor opened her mouth, but Victoria didn't let her get started. "No, I _saw_ you that night we fought Oni Lee. You were completely blanked out. If it is messing with your powers, that's even more reason to get rid of it…"

"But it _works_." A quiet hiss. "I tested it again, last night...some guy with a gun." She rubbed at her chest, fingers digging in after a second. "And it...it worked."

...she'd let some idiot _shoot her!?_

"Are you...are you fucking crazy?"

"It...seemed like a good idea at the time."

Oh God. She _was_ crazy. "That's...I don't... _I can't even_. What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me! But I had to know it wasn't just a one time thing…"

"And if it had been, you'd be dead!"

Silence. Victoria glared, but Taylor didn't back down. That was...that was different.

"I'm keeping it."

"You're not."

"Yes, I am." And she sounded so _certain_. "I can't shrug off bullets. And I...I can't be a hero, if I'm dead. So I'm keeping this thing, and if any more turn up, I'm going to see if they're useful, too. And if you don't like that, then...I guess we just won't be able to work together."

That...that was _crazy_. It was…

Victoria... _really_ didn't want that to happen. Patrolling solo was bullshit. And Taylor was...she was a complete _moron_ , obviously, but…

"You are...really going to make this a thing." And she knew she was going to go along with it, too. " _Dammit_...fine. _Fine_ , you win. Keep the creepy Trump-trinket. But when whoever made that thing comes along and turns you into their meat-puppet, I reserve the right to punch you in the face until you stop moving."

"...that seems fair."

"You're damn right it does." God. "And you're going to _tell_ me if you find any more. Because that's...this is just messed up. You realize that, right? _Someone is making those things_."

"Yeah...I get it." She didn't sound like she did. "I'll let you know."

"Awesome." Great. Victoria sighed, and rubbed at her face...had a terrible vision of herself, in the near future. Pale and drawn, eyes red from crying and lack of sleep.

Nope. _Nope_. "You and I are going to go get suited up. Then we are going to go out and have a good time. You aren't going to argue, because you are _out_ of passes from me." She didn't wait for a response, already lifting into the air. "Back here, half an hour, no excuses!"

Because at this point she didn't care if she had to barge into her house and drag her out by the back of that ratty sweatshirt. They were going to go blow off steam, and relax, and everything would be _fine_.

It would be _fine_ …

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

School was a chore, but it was important to show the colors, to smile and wave and be friendly. Get good grades, go the extra mile when she could, maybe sign the occasional autograph (if there was a new student or five). It left her days pretty busy.

So when Taylor text her at lunch, asking her to call, she honestly debated it. But it _was_ out of character. And given what they'd talked about just a couple days before…

She excused herself from her table, kissed Dean on the cheek just to watch him be flustered for a second, and slipped off to make the call.

"Glory Girl." Okay. Taylor must have been in costume...that fit. "I found another shrine."

Of course she had. Couldn't even go a week without _something_ happening. "Alright...so you're taking the stuff?"

"I...maybe." A pause. "I think you need to see this."

That...hadn't been what she meant, when she told Taylor to _tell_ her about the things. "It's just a...thing, isn't it? Why do I need to see it?"

"Because this place is different." A pause. "Your phone has a camera, right?"

"...yyyeaaah?"

"Okay. Um...bring that too. Soon."

"What-" And she hung up. She _hung up_.

Heroes weren't supposed to...well, she'd skipped school the other day. They weren't supposed to _cut class_.

Oh, this was going to come back to bite her.

She shot of a text to Dean to cover for her, then headed for the nearest exit. By the time she got in the air, she'd gotten another message from Taylor with the address she was looking for.

It wouldn't be a long flight.


	11. Interlude: ?

This one would work.

He told himself that again, as he etched the designs into the bone with the fine burning pen that he'd cobbled together. The circles within circles, the lines and marks...the geometry of it all was entrancing, wrote itself into the backs of his eyelids and he _saw them everywhere_ …

This one would work.

He'd been _careful_. So very careful. He'd taken the bone, and he'd cleaned it, and shaped it. The metal had been harder, but there were a lot of things he could do with a blowtorch and a hammer, even when he had to be _gentle_ , because the bone was _fragile_. This? This was the last part. This was the part where he drew the designs into it, and captured the essence of the _light_ and the _ending_ in order to...do... _something_.

He didn't know what it was _supposed_ to do, but it _would_ do it. It would.

This _one would work_.

He could feel it. It was close...the last few little symbols took shape, and he bit down his laughter as the familiar _aura_ formed. Quickly, more quickly this time, because this one was going to work. It was. It _would_ …

He set his tools aside, and pulled the Rune from its clamps, carefully, _carefully_. Lifted it, hefted it, felt its weight, _carefully_...he brushed his thumb across it, felt that slight curve, felt the etching that he had done, still warm in places, still smelling of burning bone…

"This one will work."

He held it, and focused on it. Closed his eyes to try and _feel_ it. For a moment, it seemed that the _incessant_ _ **whispering**_ had faded, the _Rune_ had been _ACCEPTED_.

But it wasn't. It was still in his hands. And the _**whispering voices**_ still spoke in his ears, telling him to CREATE and to INNOVATE and GROW and a hundred other _maddening_ things, but he didn't listen because he was NOT. CRAZY. And only crazy people listened to **voices** in their heads.

It hadn't worked.

Another failure...the anger bubbled up in a flash, and he _threw_ the Rune. It shattered against the wall where he'd painted the _**whispers**_ (so that he could _see_ them and _**HATE**_ them more clearly), the pieces flying everywhere.

Everywhere.

It hadn't worked.

But it would have made good bait. It would have served _that_ much purpose…

There were others. He had more. A few Runes, and enough _useless_ Charms...well. Enough that he wished that he'd just broken one of those, instead. Maybe later. Some other time.

For now...well, now he'd have to use some of the other things. He'd be able to come back for them, if they _didn't_ get broken. He'd be able to...retrieve them. Once it was done. Once he had taken care of the _problem_. Once he had handled the _thief_. The one who had _desecrated_ the Shrines, the offerings. The things that were meant to _work_. The **whispers** said to **build** and the _dreams_ said to build _this,_ but someone had been stealing.

Theft. Thief. He would _deal_ with the thief. Oh yes.

He had the bait. He _hid_ the bait, beneath the floor, beneath the Shrine, and there he laid his trap. He laid his trap, and hid it beneath another _failure_ , a _face_ that wasn't what it was meant to be. It would draw the thief in, and then they would be _dealt_ with, and he could continue his work.

Yes. He'd move elsewhere, for now. Move his tools, and his notes, and his _things_ , and he would work somewhere else.

As he slipped out of the broken-down house that he'd made his workshop on the first of several trips to his _new_ place, he made a note to himself to acquire more materials.

He had been running _painfully_ low.

And maybe, if everything was just right...maybe the next time, it would work.


	12. Chapter 8

They're... _things_. Creatures, monsters, broken and chained together in a tangle until you can't tell where one ends and another begins. Their mouths are open, their eyes empty and their faces turned to the books and scrolls clutched tight in grasping fingers, claws... _tendrils_.

The scrawling image looks like it was _scratched_ into the wall, before being sprayed and splattered in a riot of color. The paint hasn't even dried completely; the lingering fumes are already making me dizzy, but I can't bring myself to leave. I _could_ wait, outside, but...no.

I shake my head, and turn away from the...I'm hesitant to call it a mural. Or 'art'. I turn away from the _thing_ on the wall, cast one more glance toward the shrine at the center of the room, and pace a wide circle around it to make my way to the heavy table jammed into the far corner of the room.

Burn-marks in the wood. Designs and symbols, familiar and not, etched across its surface. A few pieces of shapeless metal. Just scraps, but...I pick one up examine it for a second. I don't think it's any kind of stretch to assume that this is where... _someone's_ been making the Runes and Charms that I've found.

Is this where they had started? It seemed much more...lived in, than the others. But if that was it, then why build _more_ shrines? Why break into an office, or an apartment building? Why go through all the effort just to leave things behind?

Unless it hadn't been 'left behind'. Because I can't see any reason to set up-

You wouldn't...wouldn't set a trap unless you thought someone was going to come poking around. You wouldn't hide something under the floor if you weren't worried it was going to be taken...if you weren't going to come back for it…

Shit. I should have thought of that before. I adjust my grip on my bat, and enhance my vision to sweep the house again. I...really don't want someone sneaking up on me. I have had _more_ than enough surprises for one day. Hell, I've had enough fo-

Something buzzes, and I _almost_ teleport away before I realize that, yeah, that's my phone. Which means it's probably Glory Girl.

' _Outside. Where are you?'_

Right...I take a deep breath, then turn-

-to step away from the front stoop, and onto the cracked walk that leads to the street. She spots me almost immediately, swooping down with that envious sort of grace that makes me _wish_ I'd been able to fly. Not even in costume...I guess she did make good time. "Alright, I'm gonna explain why I'm skipping out of class for this?"

Yeah, okay. She's upset. That's...understandable. I've _earned_ it pretty well over the last few days. I'm just glad she took the whole 'Charm' thing as well as she did. Because right now, I think I could really use a friend.

Or, a morbid part of me notes, somebody other than dad who might worry if I went missing.

"Come on." I hold out a hand; she snorts, rolls her eyes, but lets me teleport the both of us back into the room.

"Don't get too close to the shrine. There's...it's a trap." Easier to think of it that way, instead of as _sharp digging into me blinding pain,_ _ **blinding**_ _pain as something slashes across my eyes and drags through my jaw until-_

I swallow down the bile rising in my throat, take a few seconds to compose myself...it's time enough for Glory Girl to have a good look around and turn back to me incredulously.

"Are you still going to tell me that this isn't something to be worried about?"

The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. "To be honest? I'm pretty worried about this myself."

"I'll bet." She eyes the shrine. "So, when you say 'it's a trap'..."

"I'm not sure what. I was just moving in to...look it over. And then…" I swallow again, but forge ahead. "It wasn't pretty."

" _Christ_ …" She palms her face, drags a hand through her hair, and shakes her head. "Alright...what is that, anyway? A mask?"

It looks like it. Or one of those 'modern art' sort of sculptures that's just supposed to _look_ like a mask. I'm not sure where the difference is. Whether you can actually wear it or not? Maybe...it doesn't seem like it would be particularly comfortable; it looks like it was made of scrap metal stapled onto a burlap sack. _Clean_ scrap metal, maybe, but even from here I can see marks from where pieces were beaten into shape.

"I'm a little more concerned with the fact that somebody hid the stuff I was looking for _beneath_ the shrine."

She nods. "They knew somebody was after those things. If there's a trap, it's specifically for you...and between that, the fact that somebody's been screwing around with your powers, and the _wall full of crazy over there..._ will you _please_ tell me that you realize just how screwed up this is."

"That's why I called you right away." It's _much_ easier to just agree with her, even if she's missing...well. Some facts. I guess it's still pretty screwed up, even with what little _I_ know about this stuff. "You wanted to know about this stuff, yeah, but this is kind of a step up."

"Ya think?" When I don't respond, she just sighs again. "Okay...thank you, for actually calling. It's a little annoying that you couldn't have waited until after school, at least, but yeah. Honesty, yay." Another glance at the shrine. "What are you thinking? Spring the trap? I could probably handle it."

The sound of her screaming as she's fried by the lightning-bomb we'd stumbled across comes back to me, and I almost teleport us both back out it's so vivid. I end up just shaking my head and trying not to start shaking. Again.

"P-probably not a good idea...I'd kind of like to save whatever's there, and I...don't know how protected all of this is." I know I didn't have a chance to see what might have happened to the things hidden under the floor, and I kind of doubt the mask survived the...whatever it was." But having her here _does_ make me reconsider one of my first ideas. "I was actually thinking I'd teleport in, grab the mask, then get out before anything could…" Well, it hadn't been an explosion. "Well. You know. But I'm not sure if that'll risk the...stuff. Under the floor."

"Yeah, okay." She settles back on her heels, looking thoughtfully around the room. "How'd you trigger it? I mean, you set it off, right? That's how you know it's trapped?"

I don't like the accusing tone, but I don't bother arguing. "I'm not sure. I can't see any wires or anything. I just go close."

"I don't see anything that could be a laser, either...and besides, this place is a dump, so why _would_ it be, right?" She snorts. "So it's probably...I dunno. Motion sensitive. Where's the stuff?"

"Under the floorboards, there." I point to a spot just beneath the shrine.

"Okay...sooo...why don't you send those creepy rat projections in for it?"

I...hadn't thought of that. "Wouldn't that set it off anyway?"

"Maybe. But if you sent them in _under_ the floor, and were careful about it…"

Right. "Okay." It might a little tiring, but it would work. "We should... _probably_ move to another room, for this."

"Who's the one here that can't take a bullet? Hmm? Oh, yeah. It's me." She smirks at me, and I roll my eyes. "But yeah, sure, I'll keep you company in the hall."

It's...good to have her joking again. I was starting to get worried that I'd _really_ screwed things up, before. Well...I kind of did. But apparently not permanently. So that was good...I look around as we move out into the hallway, shut the door behind Glory Girl and start looking for a good spot…"Can you break one of these boards? About here?"

She considers the spot for a second, then grabs my shoulder to steer me around behind her...and puts her foot through the floor. That...works. Definitely.

She gives a sharp nod, smiling at her accomplishment, before lifting off the floor and moving to hover just down the hall. "Now excuse me while I hang around up here and out of reach of your freaky little rodent friends."

"The average rat can jump three feet vertical from a flat surface." I mutter, absently, as I focus on the feeling of this particular power...and then on the rush of power that goes out of me, and _skin-crawling_ feeling of rats scurrying out of my sweatshirt and down my legs. Even the complete control offered to me by the power I trigger a second later doesn't make it any better. "Mine seem to be a little stronger."

" _Thank you_. Ass."

Heh. I focus again, and...there _do_ seem to be some normal rats inside the house. More outside, but I don't know how to get them _in_ very easily...I start gathering them, as I send _my_ rats down. Close my eyes and try to focus on directing them all in the right direction. There are...sections, to the floor, but there are plenty of places that the, ah...'current residents' have worked their way through. The rats I summoned are able to locate a cloth bag that feels just about right, before they vanish and my control fades.

I don't bother calling up more, just taking control of the natural rats again and sending them to the same place. Two are enough to start dragging it away from the shrine; four are enough to work the thing through one of the wider holes and a little bit closer to us. Can't make it all the way, not without widening things out in a few places, but it's far enough away from whatever 'blast radius' there might be for me to feel comfortable leaving them. For now.

All that done, I let my control run its course and turn my attention back to Glory Girl. "I moved the stuff...should we get some pictures, before anything gets ruined?"

She touches down, carefully, eying the hole in the floor distrustfully. "Probably better. Still not sure what the hell we're going to do about this."

If I have my way, nothing that involves _other_ people. _Shit_ , I didn't want to _join_ the Wards. Having the PRT, the Protectorate, stomping around these places? This stuff...it has _something_ to do with the Outsider, the connection was blatant from the start, but I still don't understand half of what's happening, and if the big names start... _investigating_ or something…

She's already back in the room, and I drift after her, watch her snapping pictures with her phone. A few of the wall, the table, the shrine from different angles. Finally she just nods and glances my way. "So, you're going to do something stupid now?"

"Hey, it's not... _entirely_ stupid." It's pretty stupid. But...I don't know. I've got a Charm that lets me see the future, there's more power-enhancing bone-things in the bag under the floor...maybe this mask will like me, I don't know...something. If it _is_ a mask. Still not sure about that. Or if it really _will_ be useful, now that I think about it. It's sitting on _top_ of the trap, while the other stuff was hidden…

Overthinking. I need to just _do_. "If you'd be so kind as to step out?" I try to smile, but it falls a little flat. Glory Girl eyes me for a second before moving past me for the door. And she doesn't _say_ anything, which I'm grateful for.

The door closes. I swallow, and take a deep breath. Just...preparing myself. Because this will be simple. really. Teleport in. Teleport out.

I bring my hand up, about level with the mask. I focus on the spot _right_ in front of it. Picture myself standing there, with my hand _on_ the mask. One touch, and I'll bring it along with me.

And...maybe whatever's under it. Maybe. Hopefully not.

 _Deep_ breath. Calm...focus...in and out. Grab the mask. Then...hallway. I latch onto _that_ thought, too. Because I'll need to make a quick escape.

Right. Okay. Here we go...one more breath, and I bring my hand down-

-on Glory Girl's phone, almost smacking it out of her grip. She jumps. I stare.

"...did you get it?"

Shit. Might have...skipped a step, there.

"No."

We stand there for a second, and I...I _really_ wish my mask covered more of my face.

"I'm going to go get it now."

She smirks, but doesn't say anything more. She doesn't have to. I stalk back into the room with the shrine and shut the door behind me again, face burning and heart still racing from that little mix-up.

Mask first. _Then_ hallway.

I face the shrine, and bring my hand up (mask, hallway). Take a deep breath (mask, hallway). And, with a step forward-

-touch the mask-

-and stumble into the hallway, barely catching the mask as it falls away from my hand. Almost miss the muffled, metallic _twang_ sounds inside the room behind me.

Glory Girl is standing there, phone tucked away and arms crossed, looking equal parts amused and...I can't tell if that's 'I was seriously worried' or 'you're starting to piss me off again'. Hopefully the first. Worrying her makes me feel like crap, but I'm less likely to get punched.

"I, uh...got it, that time."

"Yeah, I noticed." She holds out her hand, and I offer it over. Watch her examine the brassy exterior. The inside looks a lot more solid than the outside, and there's another layer of cloth that looks much softer. The lenses even have those rubber rims like you find on swimming goggles. "Huh." She turns it around, pokes at the interior. "It's like somebody saw one of those plague-doctor masks and decided it needed to look more like a demented parakeet."

She's...right, now that I look at it again. The round lenses and the beak are...pretty similar, I guess. But it's all kind of squashed. Held together with staples and twisted wire, too, but...well, I don't think that has too much to do with the shape. Maybe. I don't know.

I take it, when she offers it back...it's surprisingly solid. I would have expected it to be more...flexible, maybe. I think there's something between the outer layer and the cloth. Support, maybe? So it fits your face? I tug at the...well, it pulls out into sort of a hood. No soft lining for that, but I guess you wouldn't need it? After a moment to shove my own hood back, to tug off my cloth mask, I pull the thing on and settle it…

"Jeeze, seriously?"

It's actually...pretty comfortable? I frown, reach up to fit it a little closer to my face, only to have it _shift_ , under my touch...pressing in. And staying there. A bit more careful prodding confirms that the whole thing is _adjusting_ to my face, and it's not long before it fits...I don't know if I'd say 'perfectly', but between the way it sits and the close-fitting hood, I don't think it's about to fall off on its own.

"How do I look?" My voice is only slightly muffled; I can breath just fine, but I guess it's not designed with casual conversation in mind.

"Like you escaped from a mental hospital." She deadpans, crossing her arms again. _This_ must be 'you're pissing me off again'. Good to know. "Please tell me you're not going to suggest-"

"Keeping it?" I don't know. I can't really see myself, right now, but...it's an adjustable mask. That may or may not enhance my powers somehow. "Maybe. I still need a real costume."

"I did say _plague_ - _doctor_ , right? Also, 'demented parakeet'?"

"You also said I had the 'edgy anti-hero thing going on'."

"...I did, didn't I?" She pauses, and considers me again. "Well...if we hadn't found it on top of some kind of trap...I'd still say it looks like the devil's art project. But, y'know, people make it work." Another moment, and she snorts, shakes her head. "Whatever. I guess you kind of _died_ for it, so keep the damn thing. I'm not gonna stop you, obviously…"

That...actually kind of hurts. "I wouldn't keep it if you thought it was a bad idea." Probably not. Maybe not. _Shit_. I would, wouldn't I?

She sighs, shakes her head, and turns to open the door into the room with the shrine. "No, I'm just...it's fine. You do need a mask...one less thing to pay for. And it gives you a starting-point or something...holy crap, what happened in here?"

I edge past her, wince at the sight of the ruined shrine. And the table, folded in on itself. I turn, narrow my eyes at the scoring on the wall...something sticking out of one, thin furrow. It's...a piece of wire, embedded in the paneling. "Trust me. It was...less pleasant, being in the middle of it."

"No kidding."

Okay. I take a deep breath, enhance my eyes, and look around. "The other stuff is under the floor over here." The corner of the room closest to the door. "Could you-"

"Yeah, I got it." She moves over to the spot I point out, breaks through the floor, and crouches down to pull the bag out...I almost fumble it, as she tosses it my way, but manage to keep my grip without its contents tipping out onto the floor. "There. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

That almost earns a laugh. "Smartass." A pause, as she looks around the room again. "...are you okay?"

Am I...ah. That. "I...think so." It didn't happen. It was _messed up_ , and just thinking about it is enough to call up the phantom sensation of _sharp_...but it didn't happen. So I'm fine. Totally fine. "I will be."

"Okay." A slow nod. "Okay...well. I guess we're done here, then, huh?" She straightens up, dusts herself off. "I'm gonna go back to school now and hope nobody notices anything. _You_...are going to go home, and...I dunno. Eat a gallon of ice-cream or something. Watch cartoons. Whatever. Later, we're going to take some pictures and take some measurements."

"For...what?"

"Your costume. _Duh_." She rolls her eyes, smirks, and reaches up to poke one of the lenses on the... _my_ new mask. "Sooner we get to it, the sooner you start looking presentable. Maybe I can actually introduce you to some of my other friends without dying of embarrassment."

"And you call _me_ an asshole."

"Whatever. Look, are you going to argue, or can we get a move on?"

I don't really feel like arguing. And...I really do want to just go home. Unwind, a little bit. That'd be nice. "I'm not keeping you here."

"Like you _could_." A pause. "Uh, I don't really feel like walking all the way outside, though. Do you think you could, ah…"

"...yes. I'll _teleport_ you to the front door, so you don't have to walk fifty feet."

She grins. "Hey, thanks! You're an _awesome_ friend. Totally thoughtful, and considerate, and in no way going out of your way to do the _stupidest_ thing possible, even when your much smarter and more fashionable friends point out just _how_ stupid it is-"

I grab her and move us both to the front, cutting her off pretty neatly. "We're here. Are you leaving, or what?"

"I think I'll go with 'leaving' for now." She lifts off, turning to wave. "Later, 'keet."

She's gone before I can work out what the hell 'keet' meant. Then I just had to take a moment to gather myself, because...wow.

"Isn't any worse than 'crow'."


	13. Chapter 9

I'm flying through the air when I feel my phone start to _buzz. The momentary distraction is enough to throw off my timing, and I clip the edge of the billboard that I was going to teleport past. I hit supports, struts, ribs breaking on impact before I tumble forward, the rooftop rushing up to meet me-_

A full body _twitch_ at the pain sets me off course, but I just close my eyes and teleport straight _up_ , so that I'm facing the sky. My phone buzzes as I rise, momentum bleeding off and phantom pain receding. That makes...five? Close to five near death experiences. Maybe I do need to start being more careful…

I start to fall, focus on that point on the rooftop that I'd seen so clearly a few seconds ago...stumble backwards as I land. Note to self; reorient in the air _before_ coming to a stop. Even if I'm not moving _that_ fast.

The thought has me laughing, because... _holy crap_.

My phone, though. Can't forget that...I pull at the tape holding my sweatshirt pockets closed, retrieve the phone...a missed call. Glory Girl. I take a deep breath, tug my mask up and try to slow my racing pulse as I call her back.

"Taylor? Thought you'd gone to bed or something."

"Nope." I'm grinning, can't really help it. "Sorry. I was just...distracted."

Movement, on the other end of the line. Rustling paper. "Wait, are you out in costume?"

"Kinda, yeah...wanted to see what the new Charms did…"

"You mean the bone-things?"

Oops. "Uh, well...I mean, don't they look like some kind of tacky good-luck charm that you'd find in a novelty store, or something?"

"...what sort of novelty stores have you been in, Taylor? Because I would _love_ to know, so I can be sure to never visit."

Alright. So, not the best explanation. I should probably come up with something a little more convincing. But not right now, because _holy crap_. "I can _fly_ now."

"You- wait. You can _fly_?"

"Sort of?" I let out another breathless laugh. "It's more, uh...falling, carefully?" She makes a questioning noise, and I rub at my face, move to lean on one of the struts holding up the billboard. "Okay, you know how my teleportation kills momentum?"

"Yeah, I do. It's disorienting as hell."

I guess it would be, if you had _actual_ flight powers. "Well one of the new charms makes it so that the momentum carries _through_."

A moment of silence. "So when you say 'falling'..."

"I took a dive off the Medhall building downtown, and made it…" I'm not sure, actually. Where am I? "Well, I was up there for awhile. I think I was moving along Main, but I got turned around a couple of times."

She heaves a sigh, but when she speaks again I can hear a smile. "Not quite flight, but...it's pretty cool, isn't it?"

"It's _amazing_."

"Now I wish I was out there too." She scoffs. "Instead of being stuck making sure I'll have enough free time for _next_ week."

That would explain the paper-sounds. "Weekend homework?"

"Dual credit." I don't think I've ever heard her sound so defeated. "I shouldn't have taken Trig on top of everything else. That's what I get for pushing the envelope."

I haven't been bothering much with my own schoolwork, for awhile. Considering my grades were already in the toilet. But now I feel kind of bad about it.

"It hasn't been particularly exciting out here." I've been out for almost an hour, now, and I haven't seen _anything_. Just thinking about the implications of that, puts a damper on my good mood. "Probably still worried about bombs."

"Even the bottom-feeders around here know crazy when they see it." There's dull _thud_ , barely audible over the line...a textbook, I think. "Everybody's laying low, I'd bet. Waiting to see what the ABB does next."

Makes sense to me. I hum, and nod, reaching up to push my hood back and pull my mask off entirely. The air is particularly cool, after the layers. "So. You didn't call me just to complain about homework, right?"

"Is that not a valid reason?"

Is it? I...maybe. "I guess so...sorry. I probably shouldn't assume that something's going on, just because…"

"No, I get it. It's been a crazy couple weeks. But...yeah. I dunno, I'm bored, I need a distraction. My boyfriend is working late, all my friends are off distracted by their own stuff, and Amy's already gone to bed."

"Again, the fact that I seem to be the _last_ name on your list-"

"Hey, I just had to cover my bases to make sure I was good to deal with your particular brand of weirdness. Dunno if anyone's ever told you this, but you can be kind of a pain to deal with sometimes."

I can _hear_ her smiling. She means it as a joke...not even one at my expense. It still bites. Because for all that she keeps saying we should work together, that we're 'friends'...I haven't exactly been a great one, so far. "I'm...working on it." Not something I particularly want to dwell on though. Time to change the subject. "How's your sister doing?"

"Well, she's back home, which is good. She's also putting in just as much time at the hospital as before, which _isn't_." A long moment of quiet; I can almost hear the scratching of a pencil in the background, before it stops and the sounds _shift_. "She _says_ she worked stuff out while she was gone, y'know? Except I don't think she did. Something's been bothering her, and it's gotten worse since...uh, the bank."

Okay, so that wasn't much of an improvement. I should probably work on my subject-changing skills. "Not sure what to say. Only child, you know?" I turn my mask around, lifting it up to reflect the fading light overhead. "...some things take time, right?"

"Right...yeah, I guess they do." An irritable huff. "Doesn't mean I have to _like_ it."

True enough. I tilt the mask, feel it adjusting with the motion...smile, as I realize something. "Wait, are you pacing again?"

The vague noise that I'd finally identified as 'motion' stops. "Of course not!" A pause, more movement, and a scraping noise. Not sure what that is. "Are you spying on me?"

Spying...ah. Must have been a window. I bite my lip to keep from laughing again. "I'm nowhere near your house."

"Uh-huh." Doesn't sound like she believes me entirely. "I'm going to say I believe you, because the alternative is really creepy."

"A little bit, yeah."

"Please tell me that you're not actually-"

"I thought you said you were going to believe me?"

"Well I'm not so sure, now. I mean, you can see through walls, and teleport around...you can't really fault me, being a little paranoid."

I snort, and push away from the billboard. "No offense, but I've got better things to do with my night than spy on you doing schoolwork."

"Oh really? Like what?"

"...so, did you get in touch with the costume guy yet?"

She laughs. It's a successful change of subject, though. An easy topic. And after that...well, I'm not great at smalltalk, but I don't have to be. Victoria talks enough for the both of us; I can get by with the occasional agreement or comment.

I may have screwed up...a couple of times. But nothing that can't be recovered from. I'll just...be more considerate, in the future.

Easy.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Victoria went back to her work, eventually, leaving me to...well, wander around some more. I don't really have a particular 'patrol route', at the moment...should that be something to change? Maybe I should just, I don't know. Pick an area? Focus my attention there, minimize the extra work? I doubt that this is the most _efficient_ use of my time…

Then again, if I was completely focused on efficiency, I wouldn't have left my bat on the Medhall roof before I decided to try 'flying' tonight. Not to mention that my backtracking is probably a more effective 'patrol' than that headlong rush through downtown. I should probably feel bad about that, but...I can't, really. Because that had been _exciting_.

I could use a little of that excitement about now. You'd think that with things the way they are, it'd be easy to find someone doing something they weren't supposed to; not many law-abiding citizens willing to go on a casual stroll in the middle of the night with the gangs on the war path. But as I sweep over dead-end alleys and dark side-streets, the worst I turn up is a guy digging around in a dumpster, and a pair of dogs fighting over what I _think_ had been a cat. Honestly, I don't get close enough to even try confirming that.

Boring is a good thing, right? It _could_ just be that...all the criminals were taking the night off? That'd be great, really. Not particularly _likely_ , no, but it'd still be...good.

Of course, as I stop to seriously consider just heading home and getting some actual sleep, three guys walk into my field of vision, just before the glow of my enhanced vision fades. The alley below is poorly lit, which is a little surprising considering the area...but it works for me. Because not only does it make it unlikely they'd spot me if I were to, say, move to that fire-escape they just passed-

-but it also reassures me that they're not just a group of idiots wandering home from a bar. I shift, carefully, testing my weight on the grating to make sure I'm not going to set the whole thing creaking if I have to move suddenly. Seems that's good...I take a breath, reach my recovery-count, and blink away the darkness.

They're just walking along, casual as could be. But I notice a pattern to the way they scan the alley around them. Not frightened. Wary, maybe, but they're also confident. Considering the haircuts, what little detail I can pick out from their clothes, and the fact that we're downtown...Empire-Eighty-Eight. Great.

I lean forward, careful with my bat as I draw a bit closer to the metal railing. Three (possible) gangsters walking down an alley...do I do something about it? From my talks with Victoria, it's usually better to be _sure_ about who you're going after, but I'm not sure how I could…

Oh. Right.

I stand, slowly, look up to try and get an idea of where I'll go next. _That_ particular rooftop seems like it's got a wider edge. I can work with that, even without direct line of sight. I consider the men for another second, then lift my bat and tap it against the rail, just hard enough to _ring_ for a moment. One of them whirls almost immediately-

-and my proof comes in the form of a handgun, pulled from under his jacket. I frown, crouch on the edge of the roof as one of his buddies grabs his hand and says _something_. Harsh, low, I can't make it out from up here. That's a bit of a problem...there's a dumpster ahead of them. And it looks fairly dark, there...I step back onto the roof proper, pick up a couple pieces of gravel, and toss them over, back toward the alley's mouth. When I hear the clatter, I move again-

-setting the bat down as quietly as possible, behind the dumpster, before curling in on myself and pulling my hood low over my mask.

"-Christ, I'm tellin' you, man…"

"Will you _shut up_? You've been actin' jumpy all night. It's just the wind."

"How the fuck do _you_ know that? It could be a Cape, for all we know."

"I don't give a shit what it _could_ be. Besides, what do you think a _gun's_ gonna do if it was? Bring them down harder on you, jackass. Now _put it away_."

"Screw you, man-"

"Joe, just fucking listen to him, man. We're already late for this thing, we need to get a move on."

My vision goes out, and I refresh it in time to see them wander past, the guy with the gun struggling to get it holstered again. "Screw _both_ of you guys."

"Whatever, man."

Nice bunch. I debate hitting them now; the guy with the gun seems pretty wrapped up in whatever issue he's having, and the other two would be nice and surprised by that...but then, they're apparently 'late' for something. And that something might be a little more important than three nobodies.

They continue down the alley, and I watch until they turn onto the street again. Stand, retrieve my bat, and slink along after them. After I'm sure which direction they're going, I hit the rooftops again. Follow from above. It's...really not that hard, since they're just _walking_.

And walking. And _walking_. And...no, wait, it looks like they're stopping, here. A parking structure...I frown, watch them walk down the entry ramp and out of sight...are they here for a vehicle? Maybe they're stealing something? No, that's stupid. They wouldn't go all that way for that, and I don't think you can be 'late' for a carjacking...so a meeting, maybe. I guess it makes sense. I mean, how much security can a place like that have, really?

I...don't actually know. But I have to assume it's 'not that much'.

After a few long moments where absolutely nothing happens, I step across the street-

-and onto the top level. Empty, poorly lit by lamps that mostly just flicker in off-yellow and cast some pretty _weird_ shadows. A short wait and a moment to enhance my vision again, and I do a quick sweep of the area below me...a couple of figures, walking around nearby. One floating along...driving. Because it's a parking garage. I smother a smile at that particular image, But I can't see to the ground level, and definitely don't see my guys...I jog over to the opposite edge, hop it-

-and hit the ground in a crouch. Nailed _that_ landing...I feel a surge of regret that I can record this stuff, because I bet it'd look pretty cool.

And...that's really not relevant, right now. _Focus_.

There are the Empire guys. And about five more, that must have been waiting, here. Not sure who they are...I blink away the false color and glow, but the lighting in the garage is just as much a hindrance in picking out detail as _that_ had been. All I can really tell is that they're all big guys with cropped hair and a fondness for turtleneck sweaters.

Which...I mean, I guess that's actually a fairly distinct thing. But still.

I can't really hear what they're saying; they're talking quietly enough that I only get a few echoes, when I actually lean up over the concrete barrier that separates 'inside' and 'outside'. Something about money, product...the Empire guys are buying something. Which would explain that package one of them is pulling from his jacket. One of the sweater-guys holds out a hand, and I catch a flash, something reflecting.

The package arcs up, sweater-guy catches it with his free hand, and tosses the flashy thing, and both groups circle around each other...the Empire guys moving toward a panel van parked in a nearby spot. The flash must have been a set of keys. So they _are_ here for a car? Van? What…?

The sweater-guys are _facing me, now, so I get a good view of their expressions as they pull their guns. One of the Empire thugs (the twitchy one from earlier) notices, where the others don't. He breaks to run, fear and confusion in his face for a moment before a pair of sharp_ _ **cracks**_ _-_

 _I tip back, pain in my face, my neck. And things are...kind of blurry…_

I lose my balance, and slump forward against the barrier, sliding down the moment I recognize the scene playing out in front of me. Gunshots. Cries of surprise, anger, the wet _thud_ of a body hitting the ground...I remember I need to breath, and force myself to actually _do it_. Reach up to feel my mask, solid, whole.

Twice in one night. I'm...I really need to take a step back and think about what the fuck I'm doing, lately.

But later, because right now there's a gunfight kicking off in there.

A maximum of six guys, probably all armed. And here's me, shaking from an adrenaline rush and the memory of _dying_ , and armed with three feet of battered aluminum.

I'm... _not_ going in there.

So, rats. Rats should work just fine.

I take a deep breath to try and calm myself a little more, close my eyes, and call up a swarm of them. On the ground _around_ me, which is a nice change of pace...I'm quick to take control of them, slumping against the barrier to recover as I send them up and over. Past the barrier, past the twitching body lying in a quickly-spreading pool of blood...

More cries ring out. More surprise. I see blurry figures reorienting, hear more gunfire, and feel as bullets impact the floor, killing one rat just from the concussion of it...they leap at the closest of the men, and once I get a couple of them under that sweater to do their work, I split the rest off to take care of the others.

It doesn't take long. Five healthy men disarmed and distracted, the sixth bleeding and easily cowed by a rat sitting on his chest and screeching when he moves...my timing is nearly perfect, and I roll myself over the barricade, hit the floor in a low crouch as the rats disappear. Almost immediately, I've got more slipping out from beneath my sweatshirt. The added strain of taking control of them has me actually _feeling_ it, but I push on anyway, sweeping the rats ahead of me to hit the guys again.

One guy _looks_ at me, and I feel a shock go up my spine, from the row of Charms I've got strapped there. No time to wonder what _that_ is, though, because he was quick enough to go for a weapon. I dive into a roll-

-and come up behind him. _Out of sight_ again, I _know_ that...my bat catches him in the shoulder, sending him reeling into the rats as they skitter across the floor. That's him down…

More gunfire, and I spin, redirect the rats even as I prepare to teleport away...one of the sweater-guys, face flushed and eyes wide as he fires indiscriminately at the approaching swarm. Silent and focused, until they hit him again, and then he lets out an undignified yelp and immediately drops the gun again in an attempt to shake off the ones that have clung onto him.

Sweater-guy numbers three and four have _seen_ me, now. They watch me and, I note, the rats that I split off to take them, too. When I start circling them around, one of them turns to keep an eye on them, while the other keeps an eye on _me_.

That's...different.

"Surrender." I raise my voice, a bit. Both to cover up the slight unsteadiness, and to overcome the muffling effect of my mask. "It can _definitely_ get worse."

Imagine my surprise when, after a few seconds of quiet, the guy folds his hands together behind his head and settles down on his knees. His buddy behind him glances around, sees him, and quickly does the same. So does the guy I'd tagged in the shoulder.

The one that my rats had caught isn't quite so composed, voice shaking as he curses. "Fucking get'em off me!"

I do. And he surrenders.

Which is...yeah. Okay. Why not?

I keep the rats on hand, consider them, then move over to the wounded Empire goon-

Five sets of eyes on me. And then a sixth. I spin, spot the third gangster circling around the side of the van, gun in hand. A step-

-and a swing knocks it away, and he bites out a curse before my backhanded follow-up swing catches him across the jaw and sends him to the ground.

Rats chirp and squeal as one of the sweater-guys gets ready to move. He gets the message, and settles again.

"Stay down."

The last guy glares up at me, then spits at my feet, chips of something hard hitting the concrete...oh. Shattered tooth. Or teeth. Still, he doesn't move, so I go back to his buddy.

His buddy who's bleeding pretty badly. Breathing shallow, too...shit. I lean over him, eye the wounded shoulder...I pull out my phone and speed-dial the emergency services line Victoria gave me...except I don't have a signal.

Okay. That's...that's just great…

Seven people watching me. Eight.

I take two steps to the side, without looking around-

-then move to the other side of the panel van, and skirt around it as my rats spread out…

"Shit, where'd he go-?"

 _...he_?

" _You_ , don't move. I see anyone go for a gun, we'll have problems…" A pause. "Aegis." Silence. I look _past_ the van in time to see a figure hovering above the ground wave in my direction. And another, lifting up until _he's_ almost brushing the ceiling…

Aegis. A _Ward_.

"Hold on!" I lift my bat, wave it for a second before stepping out. The red costume and silver shield are easily recognizable, even with the poor lighting. That's definitely Aegis...and judging by the flying skateboard and Tinker-tech pistols, Kid Win too. "Sorry. I thought you were more of them." A vague gesture at the guys scattered around...my rats vanish, again, and I wince at the sudden _lack_ of input. "I've learned to dodge first and ask questions later."

Can't read much of their expressions, but I also can't miss the look they share as Aegis settles on the floor again. "That's fair…" A pause, as he eyes me. "You're... _not_ a villain?"

I'm…? "What? No!" Okay, so...I guess I am dressed mostly in black. And the mask isn't as... _sleek_ , as his helmet, or Kid Win's visor, but...villain? Really? "No, I'm a hero. I've been working with Glory Girl and everything."

"Uh...right…" He doesn't sound so sure.

Kid Win, on the other hand, turns to look at the guy that I'd hit in the face. He's still spitting out blood, and, as I watch, reaches into his mouth to yank out _another_ tooth. Or part of one, maybe.

"I dunno, I think I can see the resemblance…"

What is that supposed to…? No, it doesn't matter. Wards, here, that's good. "Look, can introductions wait? This guy's hurt pretty bad." I move, draw their attention to the wounded gangster. "We need to call an ambulance or something…"

Aegis is at my side almost before I realize he'd moved, and I flinch away without thinking. But he just crouches down at the guy's side, hissing under his breath. "Kid, call it in. Six men, one injured-"

"Seven." I correct, waving toward where I know the last one is still lying. "One tried to run, took a bullet in the back. He's dead."

"Right. Kid, you heard her."

"Yeah, I heard…" Kid win turns away, and starts talking quietly...probably some kind of earpiece thing. That would make sense…

"Hey, I'm going to get him upright." Aegis is already pulling on the guy, getting behind him to prop him up. He's not really struggling...probably not a good sign. "You're going to help me put pressure on the wound, alright? You're just going to press."

Right. Slow the bleeding. "He's lost a lot of blood." I point out, as he tears a solid piece of the guy's shirt off with what _looks_ like a casual tug. "Not sure this is going to do much good." I take the cloth anyway, and press it against the wound. Ignore the hiss of pain and slurred cursing.

"Well, it's better than nothing…"

"EMTs are on the way." Kid Win speaks up from where he's still watching over the sweater-guys. "The police should be here first, though."

"Alright. Get them cuffed and we'll wait it out."

"On it."

I keep up the pressure, watch with some interest as Kid Win starts pulling those plastic zip-cuffs from some kind of pack set into the armor at his waist. I narrow my eyes at the sweater-guys as he steps off his hoverboard, consider just how tired I am...Aegis flinches, but doesn't do more than that, as more rats swarm out of my sweatshirt. There's no rush this time; I just send them meandering over to the group, a silent reminder.

"Yeah, that's _totally_ not villainous…" I frown behind my mask, but Kid Win just moves around the rats and starts securing the guys, guiding each one onto their stomachs and zipping their wrists together behind their backs.

Quiet, until he finishes with the... _largely_ un-injured Empire goon. Even then, he just offers a 'going to wait outside' before taking off.

And then, awkward silence. It's interesting to watch Aegis trying to look everywhere _except_ for at me. I just sigh. "Is it the rats?"

"Uh…" I can hear him cringing. "Maybe a little." A pause. "That's an... _interesting_ mask."

"Thanks."

More silence. He shifts, uncomfortably. "You know...usually it's a good idea not to splurge on just _one_ part of your costume…"

Oh, right. "The rest is in the works."

He seems a little surprised, at that. "Well...that's good."

And he stalls out again. This is getting ridiculous. But it's not like I have any conversation starters either, so I'm quiet. Watch blood well through...what is this? Cotton? T-shirts are usually some kind of cotton, aren't they? Whatever it is, it's uncomfortably warm and sticky against my hands.

"You said you work with Glory Girl?"

I glance up again. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Sort of." 'Work with'. I mean, she called it a partnership, a couple of times, so I guess it counts. "We've met up a few times."

"That's good." He nods. "New Capes can run into a lot of trouble, if they're not careful." I bristle at the implication, but considering some of what's happened lately I can't exactly _argue_ it. "Have you considered the Wards?"

"Considered it." I really had. But honestly, the last thing I want is to hand over _more_ control of my life to some stranger sitting behind a desk. Not to mention, "I'm not too sure about joining any club that would accept Shadow Stalker, either."

He winces, at that. "You've met her, huh?"

In a roundabout way. "Her reputation precedes her."

"Right." A pause, and he glances over at the guys in the cuffs. "Well...I'll be honest and say that Shadow Stalker...doesn't exactly fit in, with the rest of the Wards, here. She's not...you know. Representative." He smiles, but it seems a little forced. "You should really consider it. Having that support can make a huge difference."

I eye him, for a few seconds, then shake my head and focus on pressing that bloody cloth against the bleeding racist. "I'll keep it in mind."

"...okay."

More quiet. This time it lasts until the sound of approaching sirens signals the arrival of...I'm not sure if it's the police or the paramedics, actually. Do the sirens sound different? Probably...my question is answered less than a minute later when a pair of men come trotting in from the other side of the garage, a rolling gurney held between them.

I stand and move away when they tell me to...edge over to stand beside Aegis again, as the guy is bundled up and hauled out. The whole thing went...very quickly.

Well.

"Do you think you have this handled?"

He looks at me...surprised, again. Probably. "You're leaving?"

"It's pretty late." I shrug...pause. "Oh, yeah...the E88 were here trying to buy something from the other guys." I gesture at the van. "Might want to check that out."

A nod, another brief smile. "Thanks, uh…didn't catch your name."

He sounds embarrassed. I...don't really feel like explaining things. There's blood drying on my hands, right now. So I just shrug, and move-

-to the top level, already walking toward the closest edge. I'll hit the next roof over, then head down main until I…

Oh... _crap_.

I pause, and think. Scrape my heel along the asphalt irritably. Finally, turn around-

-and step past a startled Aegis, leaning down to pick up my bat.

"Hello again?"

He sounds so bemused. I ignore my burning cheeks, shoulder the bat, and offer a stilted wave before heading back up.

Smooth, Taylor. Very smooth.

"Fuck my life."

I'm going home.


	14. Chapter 10

It's late afternoon; not dark enough to give me much of an advantage in stealth. I can work around that, though. Maybe. I haven't decided whether I'm actually going to step in, here.

On one hand, I've had a _really_ shitty day, and I kind of want to take it out on these guys. The ones having a shootout in a public place. I saw people running from the gunshots, people ducking for cover _inside their homes_ (and if that wasn't some sad commentary on life in Brockton I'd eat my bat)...bullets flying meant innocent people could get hurt. After last night, I'm very much aware that a stray bullet is just as dangerous as one that's on target. So really, stopping these guys before this carries on for much longer would probably be for the best; a good deed for the day and therapeutic all at once.

The problem is that there's a bitter part of me that looks at the empty street, and the thick, brick walls of the surrounding buildings, and thinks that it's not worth the trouble. If these guys want to shoot at each other so badly, let them. And if they wind up killing each other, well…

' _-these problems don't solve themselves!'_

I grit my teeth, my knuckles going white as I clutch at the ledge I'm leaning over. As much as I hate to admit it...it's true. And I _can't_ just sit here and do nothing. They may have automatic weapons, but _I have superpowers, dammit_. Problems may not solve _themselves_ , but right now I'm looking at one and I've got all the tools I need to do some solving of my own. I just need the right...approach.

The E88 guys might have picked this fight; we're right on the edge of their territory, as far as I know. Maybe past it. Not sure what they expected to do...maybe they thought they'd get a jump on these guys? All I know is that four-on-six didn't make an even fight. Had they just been confident? Maybe.

But one of theirs is dead already, slumped in a pool of his own blood. And while they managed to wing one of the ABB soldiers early on, he'd just slipped away. That left it five against three, in the ABB's favor. As evidenced by the way the Empire group is trying to withdraw.

Into that alleyway across the street.

I move to the next rooftop, jog across it, and get a nice view of their backs as they continue firing wildly and backing away.

The ABB are playing it safe. Staying in cover while their enemies waste bullets. If they're any kind of smart, they'll probably wait for a bit before trying to follow these guys. Which would give me enough time to do what I need to do.

If not...well. I'm not _terrible_ at thinking on my feet. And I need to do something, soon, or this is going to turn into even more of a mess.

I pick a good spot, gauge the timing, and appear behind them...a _jolt_ goes up my spine, as I reorient; one of the retreating group had turned at just the right time to catch sight of me. I'm already raising my bat, ready to lunge forward and strike before he can warn his friends...he stumbles, and falls into one of his friends, drops his gun in the process. Good for me.

"What the fuck-!?"

Another jolt, and the second one has spotted me. The third, a moment later. _His_ eyes widen, and he pushes his off-balance friend to the ground in an attempt to bring his weapon up. "Oh, shi-"

Bat meets machine-pistol with a metallic _clang_ , and bullets chew along the ground beside me, throwing up chips of gravel and tar. It's almost deafening, in the confines of the alley, but I just grit my teeth and pull back, shove the end of the bat into his chest as hard as I can. He stumbles back, gun falling from nerveless fingers. "You really think shooting at me is a good idea?"

Two down...ish. The third has recovered, ready to pull the trigger. But I've recovered too, and before he can manage it-

-I'm behind him. Bullets hit the wall. "Because th _is is really not a good day to piss m-" He turns, faster than I would have expected, and lights flash in my vision as something hard slams into the side of my head, where the mask doesn't protect. I have a moment to realize I'm on the ground before hot pain cuts into my side, my chest. A boot drives my last breath out-_

"-is isgk..." I drop, feel something pass over my head...I let go of my bat and _grab_ , taking us _up_ with a thought.

Falling. If we're at the edge of my range, we have ten seconds.

He struggles, trying to get away...I count four and take us _up_ , again, facing the opposite direction so our momentum carries us that much further. That's...sixteen-ish. I'm not sure I'm counting right. Blood is pounding in my ears. All I can hear is wind rushing past, and the sound of my breath against my mask...and the guy, screaming. I think he's trying to get away. Bad idea, at this point, but I never attributed much intelligence to neo-nazis.

Not sure what to do about all this, yet. I take us up one more time (twelve, ten...twenty-two seconds), let go before we reach the apex of our 'flight'.

He's terrified. Dropped his gun at some point. That's good...huh. We're really high up, aren't we?

We're falling again. I reach out before we can pick up too much speed or get too far apart, grabbing hold of his shirt and dragging him along with me. He's saying something, but I can't hear it. Don't bother to listen. I glance at the ground again, then close my eyes and count it off. When I hit five seconds (and he's started screaming), I reverse us again, pull my legs in and set my knees against his stomach. Wait until that weightless feeling of 'falling' up subsides, then visualize the alley we left not too long ago and set us both down.

Him first, though. He fucking _killed me_. The impact jolts me (actually, that's the Charm again, _five_ people watching), but drives what little fight was left right out of the guy.

I would... _love_ to stop and catch my breath, but that little delay cost me more than just energy. I try not to slump as I get to my feet; slowly, both to avoid wavering and to keep from spooking the armed ABB edging into the alley (only three; a glance shows that one of the Empire guys got away, but the remaining two definitely _can_ see me).

Alright. I can do this. I make a note of where my bat wound up, take a deep breath, and raise my voice to make sure I'm heard. "I have to say, I don't like your odds h-" Okay, gun. I'm on the roof before the noise of it reaches me...dodging is good. Dodging before getting shot is so much better than the alternative. I should really work on that. And maybe stop talking.

Something to consider later, though. For now, bad guys.

I move to the edge of the roof overlooking the street, just make sure that those other two guys aren't hanging around somewhere. I don't _see_ them, so...back down, just outside the alley. I breath, then step around the corner-

-back to the rooftop. Another burst of gunfire. What the hell? Did they hear me coming or something? I mean, that other guy had reacted pretty quickly when I'd moved in behind him, but _they_ were _waiting_ for me. What... _oh_.

Oni Lee. Teleporter.

Guess at least _some_ of the ABB would expect that trick, wouldn't they? Hmm…

I move over to the alley-side of the roof, enhance my vision to get a good look at them without breaking cover. They're a little spread out, now, one moving for the fallen Empire thugs...oh, shit. Yeah, okay, can't let that happen. Alright...I need to break them up. That trick I'd pulled a minute ago is a little more intensive than I need, but I can manage a _couple_ of back-to-back teleports without much trouble. With a little rest in between...totally doable.

The roof across the street looks like a good candidate. I pick a spot, there, then get a good look at the group below, and reach out-

-grabbing the guy as he lifts his gun to finish off the wounded E88 men-

-to shove him forward as hard as I can. His shins hit the exposed ductwork that runs across the roof, and he tumbles forward with a curse. The handgun clatters to the ground...I don't have my bat, but it doesn't take much effort to hop the duct and kick him in the head.

He's dazed, but I don't wait around to do anything else; I grab the gun, fumble with it for a moment looking for...the clip drops out, and I wind up dropping the gun trying (and failing) to catch it. Which is...fine. Doesn't matter. I scoop it up; it's got some heft to it. I can use that.

"Hang around for a little while."

That earns me a few biting words in a language I don't really recognize. _Probably_ a curse. I sigh, and move to get another look at the alley...shit. Where'd they go? I move to look out over the street...yeah, they're running. Think fast, Taylor…

I move-

-and aim a low kick at one guy as he passes. Pain shoots up my leg and I hiss even as _his_ leg goes out from under him just as he's trying to put his weight on it. He's down a second later, almost taking me with him...the sound of his startled cry has the other one skidding to a stop and turning back to see what's happened.

So I pull back and throw the clip at him. It hits him in the shoulder, and he jerks back, aborting the attempt to bring his weapon up. And then-

-I'm right beside him, twisting it out of his hands. It catches on something, and there's a _snap_...broke his finger. Okay...probably should have thought that through, because it could just as easily have gone off. Another note for future me.

He throws a punch, and I barely get out of the way in time. Swing the gun to catch him on the same shoulder I'd hit before...and then at his face. Red gushes from his nose as he tumbles back, and he clutches at it as he hits the ground. Doesn't seem like he's about to get up again…

Eyes on me, behind ( _thank you_ , Bone Charm), I turn and immediately throw the gun as hard as I can. The guy I'd tripped _had_ been getting up again, but the flying machine pistol catches him _right_ in the head, and he slumps again.

...I...hadn't actually expected that to work.

Well...huh. Okay then.

I take a deep breath. Realize, belatedly, that I'm trembling. In a good way, though... _ha_. That just happened. Six guys. Just like that. No rats for distractions...not even my bat. Just... _yeah_.

Any of my earlier indecision that had stuck is gone, now. I _really_ needed that after...earlier…

Just like that, my good mood plummets. Which is just...so very unfair. Because this is _my thing_. I'm a hero, now, and _that_ should be what I'm worried about. Not arguments with my dad, not _Winslow_...I shouldn't have to prioritize _that_ stuff over helping people…

But the school wouldn't give a shit even if they knew what I was doing. And dad doesn't know I'm out helping the city anyway, does he? Because I haven't told him.

For good reason. He'd worry even more if he _did_ know. He wouldn't let me spend days and nights going around and harassing the gangs. God, he'd probably try and push me into the Wards.

No, this is better-

Sirens. Guess I won't have to call this one in. I glance around, then step-

-up onto the roof where I'd left the other ABB guy. He's just getting to his feet, doesn't have time to react before I grab him and take him down to the street with his buddies. A shove sends him to his knees again, and I step back before he can react.

"Listen up. You're going to stay here. And when the police show up, you're going to tell them about the guys in the alley over there. Got it?"

He glares up at me. " _Fuck_ you."

I glare right back. "If you'd rather try to run, I could just break your legs now and save the trouble of having to chase you down later." It's a pretty blatant bluff, but he seems to buy it. Or, at least, he's not willing to risk it outright. He just shifts, and sits. Glances over as the guy with the busted nose tries to get to his feet and starts stumbling away.

Which is...yeah.

I wrangle him in, just in time for a squad-car to roll up. Police. Just in the _nick_ of time. I don't bother trying to engage, just raise my voice as I head to the alley. "There's some more for you over here, when you're done with them!"

 _They're_ trying to limp away too. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Annoyed? Maybe. It'd be funny if it weren't for the fact that they were shooting at people earlier...I pick up my bat, teleport in front of them, and point back toward the street. They glare, but with some obvious reluctance turn themselves around and start walking the other way.

 _Wonderful_.

I follow them all the way out and over to where the cops are cuffing the ABB guys. "There were a few more, but they ran while I was taking care of these guys."

One of them pulls a face, shaking his head as he hauls one man to his feet. "I'll call it in."

Great. I turn away, and start walking-

" _Fucking capes…"_

...I grit my teeth, and glance over my shoulder. See the second cop scowling as he folds an Empire goon's arms back. I wonder how well _he_ would have handled these guys. If he'd actually bothered to _show up_ before they got away.

"Useless _jackass_."

He jerks, glares up at me. "What-"

I'm half a block away already, and moving into the narrow alley that the injured ABB guy had gone down.

Blowing off a little more steam before I go home again is probably a good idea. Maybe if I'm lucky...I crouch low, touch a wet spot on the asphalt. Rub the red between my fingers, before cringing and wiping it off on my sweatshirt.

If I'm lucky, he'll lead me to more of his friends.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

I'm not so sure anymore whether it was _good_ luck, but...well. The trail had led me to the gangbanger, and the gangbanger had definitely led to more ABB.

I sit on the roof of the tenement building, trying, for the third time, to get an accurate headcount. They're spread out and keep moving around, but there's got to be...fifteen or sixteen in my range of vision, which I _don't_ think covers the lower floors. That's...that can't be all of them. The building is too big. So does that mean there are more downstairs?

Does it matter? I can't go up against a group that big. I may have picked up a habit of making... _questionable_ decisions, lately, but I'm not an _idiot_. Even if they're not all armed (which I doubt is the case), numbers will overwhelm me as easily as anything else.

Can I just call it in? Let the police (or the Protectorate?) take care of things? I mean, they've got the manpower, and they get _paid_ for this stuff…

I think back to the cop from earlier. To dad's stories. I think about the fact that there are so many of these guys, just hanging around in one place...and _I'm_ the first one to find something? To bother tailing someone here?

…no. _No_ , it's not a good idea. It's _dangerous_.

But then again...just going out in costume is dangerous. Hell, walking out your front _door_ is dangerous in this city. So the concern isn't the _danger_. It's...how much danger are you willing to face to do what you need to do?

Problems don't solve themselves. Dad was talking about the bullying, but this...the gangs are the same, aren't they? It's _all_ just the same shit, on a bigger scale. Which is...

Huh. Is this what an 'epiphany' feels like?

I guess so...that doesn't mean that trying to clear out an ABB safe-house is a good idea, of course. I'm alright fighting one or two guys at a time, but being willing to face that kind of danger doesn't magically grant me the ability to face it _successfully_. Which leaves me...thinking in circles. _Dammit_. Alright...stay and do something, or leave and call it in? Risk the pain of what could be a couple more 'deaths'...or go home and deal with _that_ mess?

...I know what I'd prefer, and it makes me think I might have some issues. But...I can talk to Victoria about that. Later.

For now...I move to sit in the center of the roof, close my eyes, and focus on _control_.

 _Awareness._ I wince as I realize just _how many_ bugs there are in the surrounding block. Just how many mice and rats have made their homes in the walls. Useful, for me, but I really didn't need to know that...I start organizing, working out placement, and surroundings (as well as I can, anyway). By the time my control slips away, the first time, I've confirmed that there are eighteen people here...and room for a lot more. Places that I'm pretty sure _were_ occupied until very recently.

So that's a question. For later, though...right now, I need to focus. A deep, calming breath, and I exert my control again. This time, I focus on the building itself. Rooms, doors, stairwells...where are the people, where can I go where they _won't_ be…

Okay. I'll do this floor-by-floor. Start at the top; three guys. Two are settled in front of a TV, the third is roaming. My control slips, and I let it go this time, wait a few moments to fully recover before enhancing my vision to ensure I won't lose track of the guy. Another few moments-

-and I appear in an empty apartment. No lights on that I can see. No door, either. A bunch of mattresses laid out wherever there's room, and no small amount of garbage. The guy I'm after is just down the hall and headed this way.

I glance around, spot an empty can; soda or beer, I can't tell. Doesn't matter, now. I just need something to draw his attention...I move to press myself against the wall beside the door. Watch him, as he draws closer...I toss the can, so that it bounces off a mattress and skitters across the floor. Not as noisy as it could have been, it's enough for him to hear. And it gets him curious.

He flicks the lights on as he edges inside, one hand at the small of his back. He glances at me, sweeps the rest of the room...does a double-take just in time to catch the handle of my bat across his face. It puts him off balance, gives me free reign to get in behind him and drop the bat down to press against his throat. A _pull_ , and I've got him...he struggles, of course. Tries to drive me back against the wall. I just teleport us so that my back hits a mattress instead.

He's not much taller than me, but he's _heavy_. Still, I hold on, adjusting when my grip starts to fail, so that I've got my arms curled up around the bat. I manage to thwart his attempts to roll us over, ignore the fumbling at my arms, at the bat, at my face. And I keep pulling until his panicked wheezing stops. Until he goes completely limp. Then I hold for a little longer.

 _Finally_ , I let go, shove him off of me and get back to my feet...out like a light. It took a lot longer than I thought it would, but I guess that makes sense. I bend down to roll him over, pull the gun out of his waistband and, with a little work, remove the clip. _That_ goes underneath another mattress.

Only...seventeen more to go.

...better get to it, then.

I mean, I guess at this point I've committed, haven't I?

"Yeah..." I wait for my vision to return to normal, refresh it, and turn the lights off as I slip out of the room.

The other two on this floor haven't really moved. I'm not quite as sure what to do about them...can I lure one of them out? Maybe...I lean against the wall beside the door, and consider it long enough that my vision runs down again.

I glance back down the hall, and think...eye the flickering, fluorescent lights overhead. Turn to lean, carefully, into the open doorway. Just enough to get a look into the apartment. Not particularly bright, beyond that TV, but there's some overhead lighting...I lean in a little further, since they seem pretty engrossed in whatever's on. Where's the switch…? Over near what used to be a kitchenette, it looks like. One more glance at them, and I crouch low-

-and edge forward to press against the cabinets beneath the counter, just opposite them. I listen, and as soon as I've recovered, enhance my vision to assure myself that they haven't moved. Which they haven't. Good.

I hold my bat close to keep from bumping into anything, and work my way along until all I need to do is reach around the corner for the switch.

Deep breath.

The light goes out.

They notice, of course. There's some grumbling, and a rapid-fire discussion in another language. One of them stands up and moves toward the switch. And as he does, I reach up-

-grab the guy sitting on the couch-

-and drag him down onto the floor in the mattress room. He doesn't have a chance to call out before I'm on him, bat pressing down on his neck. By the time he can think to do more than claw uselessly at my mask, he's starting to flag. Again, I wait until after he's stopped moving.

The guy from before shifts, and lets out a groan. I almost jump out of my skin. That's...aren't people supposed to _stay_ knocked out? I stalk over and, after making sure that he is, in fact, waking up...well. I hit him in the head.

And I hit the other guy, while I'm at it. Then I hear a voice and curse myself for getting distracted...vision is a go. The third guy is heading down the hall...shit. Toward the stairs. I don't waste time, just appear in front of him and swing my bat. He goes down too. Not quite out, but not about to go running off. So...that's three. Easy. I mean, it _could_ have gone really badly…but it didn't.

So, now what? I've got _fifteen_ more guys to deal with, and if I can't keep these guys unconscious reliably...well. I'll just have to find a way to keep them from calling for help. Or going to find it. So...restraints.

I should... _probably_ invest in some of those.

For now, though….well, this guy has a belt. And, as I 'drag' him back to the room with the others, I notice that they do, too.

It takes some doing, but I manage to get them all disarmed, sat up, and belted together in a way that I'm reasonably sure won't let them get out easily. Given that they're all either groggy or unconscious...I guess I'll call that done.

Now for the rest…

I'm...I'm going to be here all night, aren't I?

"Right…" I close my eyes for a moment, sigh, and shake myself out. Pat the nearest thug on the head. "You boys just wait here…"

Onward and...downward, I guess.


	15. Chapter 11

There _were_ two guys on this floor. I took them up to join their friends, though...an extra layer of security, now that I think about it. If they woke up enough to call for help, it'd be that much harder to hear from _two_ floors away.

I lean against a wall, just across from the stairwell, just taking a few moments to catch my breath and consider my next move. And the six people on the next floor. Which...it's not going to be a problem. I just took care of five easily enough. Why would six be any worse?

It won't be. I'm...pretty sure of that.

I refresh my vision and start down the stairs. Move carefully, step lightly. A couple of them squeak, despite my efforts, but it doesn't draw any attention anyway. So I guess it doesn't matter.

Six...five men and a woman. Gathered in two groups...must be two separate rooms. Apartments. Whatever...three and three. The first group are all seated together, facing each other. With the other group, two are sitting with a little distance between them, and the third is...standing guard? He's definitely _watching_ , more than the others are.

Watching the doors, I realize, as I edge into the hallway outside. The hall door, at least, but...are the two rooms connected? That's not helpful…

I pause, as one of the three that are sitting _together_ starts moving. Raised voices, as he stands...the woman is up a second later, their third almost falling out of his seat...a clatter that might be a chair. More shouting, and now they're shoving each other. Which...I'm not sure whether this is a good thing. It's already drawing attention from the next room. If more people come up to investigate, that could be trouble.

A door slams open; the rooms are definitely connected. I move closer, try to follow the mix of English and...not...as he shuts them down. My vision goes out, but I refresh it immediately. See him returning to the other room. See the guy that had started the shouting heading toward the _hall_ door.

These are the people that everyone's so _fucking_ afraid of? If they're ready to fight each other at the drop of a hat...ugh.

I wait as long as possible before moving straight up a floor, to watch him through the floor. He pushes through the door, and I can hear it slam behind him. When he starts stalking down the hallway, I follow. This one is going first. Asshole...he turns, and I push a door open to keep up. Another apartment. A dead end, and not too close to the rest of them.

Perfect.

This place seems pretty evenly laid out. I can probably assume that his going through a door now, and that that door leads into a...bathroom. Okay. I push the door open a little further, step inside, and look down to see him leaning on...the sink, it must be. Splashing water on his face. Cooling down after a fight. That's never worked, for me...but to each their own, right?

...yeah.

Alright. That's enough waiting. This is a perfect moment, and I'm going to capitalize on it. So, I step forward a bit, square up, and shoulder my bat. Take one last look through the floor before looking up at the clouded mirror-

-and meeting his eyes over his shoulder as he straightens up again.

He stills. I can't help but smile at his expression.

" _Boo_."

The bat _thunks_ against his head as he turns to face me, and I push him back against the wall, hold him there until I've recovered enough to take us-

-up to the top floor with the rest of these assholes. Still mostly out of it, and my makeshift restraints are working...I kick my latest take-down as he tries to take a breath. Can't have him calling for his friends...he turns on his side and curls up around his stomach, until I grab his arms and liberate his belt. Get him tied up with the rest of them.

By then my vision has gone and I'm fully recovered. Back down-

-to the bathroom, so I can start considering my options for moving forward. I need bait, something distracting, but not enough to get them calling in backup. Three on the floor below, and they'll hear anything first. Which leaves...six, five, that's eleven, so fourteen...four on the ground floor, to back _them_ up. Unless that's changed. I...I should probably check that, shouldn't I?

The rest of the ABB on this floor seem pretty content to stay where they are, so I shut the bathroom door and sit on the edge of the tub.

And then? Then I reach out and take control of every bug and rodent in my range, again. They've spread out again, since my first round of spying, but it's easy enough to rein them in. Set them to feeling things out again. The count _hasn't_ changed, even if they've moved again. They seem...mostly calm, I think. From the way the mosquitoes and flies are reacting...one of them is bleeding? Must be the guy that was hurt earlier. That might be good information later, but I've got what I needed…

Now that I think about it? Rats could be useful right now. How many more times can I afford to use this power? Not... _too_ many, but maybe that'll be enough to take care of _part_ of my current problem, at least. Not much time to waste, so I focus on the rats on this floor. Manage to get one in the right room before my control slips away.

I _breathe_ , and take it back. Reorient on...the way out of the wall. The rat knows the way, I just need to... _let it move_.

There. It's in the room. Bright light, people. A steady _clicking_ , muffled...in the next room. Not sure what that is, but also not my focus right now. No, it's the two sitting at the rickety table, talking. Focused on each other. That makes it easy to get the rat across the empty space.

I stand, enhance my vision, and send the thing across the man's feet.

He jerks back and away, his chair tipping over as the rat scurries across the floor, squeaking in distress. The woman starts laughing. The guard barges in to do some more angry shouting.

The guy on the floor pushes himself up, bites out something harsh. More laughter, another door-slam from the guard. Stomping feet...and the rat dies. Like he really needed to kill it...

I wait. I watch. Nobody downstairs really reacts, other than to look around. The guy I'd scared, in the meantime, spends a few moments pacing and gesturing at his surroundings before kicking something I _can't_ see. His chair, maybe.

He storms out of the room, just like his friend before him. I _almost_ smile again.

Maybe I'll celebrate later, though. Right now...I stand, and move to the bathroom door, throw it open with a little more force than necessary and make no effort to hide my footsteps as I move to the kitchenette. The guy pauses, out in the hallway, and starts moving my way.

"You still sulking in there?" He says something more, after that, but it might as well be gibberish for all I can understand of it. Makes me wish I could speak...whatever language that is. Should I be able to recognize it? Will that be important, at some point?

...what am I expecting here? Some kind of super-hero competency test? Ugh.

I turn out the lights, as he approaches the door. Stand inside the kitchenette, just behind the switch, and turn so that all that he _might_ see is the dark of my clothes.

"Shou? The fuck you doing in here, man?" Footsteps, close. The switch flicks.

I turn, swing, and bounce his head off the wall. Trying to catch him before he falls almost knocks the bat out of my hand, which...wouldn't be a good thing, right now.

After a moment of struggling to keep him up, and I finally just take us up to drop him with the rest. This is almost becoming routine. Smack him in the head, tie him up, and head back down... _almost_ have it down by rote.

Four more to go. And one of them is sitting alone.

I step out into the hallway, reach up to adjust the set of my mask, and take a little time to work some of the strain out of my arms….there's a bank of switches, set into the wall here...I flip them down, and the hall lights go out with a flicker. A good start. Now, to draw my target out. Not more rats, I doubt I'll get that lucky a second time. I could make some noise, but that might draw out the rest of them.

Maybe I'm overthinking it. I just need to get her out into the hall.

So, I press myself to the wall beside the door into the appropriate room, and reach down to grip the doorknob. A glance back to make sure she's not _actively_ watching the door...I turn it, slowly. Quietly. Until I hear it _click_...the door sticks, a bit, but a _push_ gets it free.

It creaks open as I pull my hand back and edge further down the hall.

She's curious. Confused. She stands and...edges away from the door. Hm. Not the reaction I was after...no, wait. Here she comes. Slowly, carefully. Ready to draw a weapon, from what I can tell...oh. Maybe I should be further away. Like-

-down the hall, just around the corner. I lean out just enough to see her, enhanced vision or not...she edges out of the room, looking around, warily. Relaxes, after a few seconds; I can hear her, grumbling under her breath, as she fumbles toward the light-switches...is it that dark? I guess it has gotten later...well, I can work with that. I step out-

-and watch her from behind as she finally finds the switches and flips them on with a pleased huff.

She turns, and I press forward with my bat. She manages to bite out a _yelp_ before I drive the breath out of her...and then her knee catches me in the stomach, returning the favor. Which is _fine_ , because I don't need to _breathe_ to grab her and take us-

-to the roof. Not the top floor apartment where I'd been dropping the ones I'd taken down. That was...reflex. Should work on that…

Impact against my face. _Painful_ , but the mask is good protection against...did she punch me? Guess it doesn't matter. I hit her in the stomach, again, then bring the bat up for a good swing...it catches her under her chin, and sends her reeling back.

A bit of space, a moment to recover...I can _focus_. I step into my downswing and catch her shoulder. She's off balance already; that's enough to drive her to the ground. One more swing finishes things off with the knockout.

Dammit. Alright. That's...that's eight. Ten more. Just ten. I can...manage ten.

Deep breath. And-

-back down.

Two men and a guard. The guard is on alert, and the men are still doing...whatever it is they've been doing. The group on the floor below us are still just...there.

I find the light switch, turn them off, then slide down the wall across from the door. Sit and watch as the guard paces. Watch, and think. There's a pressure behind my eyes; I vaguely recognize the fact that it's been building for a little while now. Which is...just great.

I don't really feel like getting up right now. So, I lift my bat...let it drop. Guard stops, turns...snaps at the other two in the room, before moving for the door and stepping out. A pause. He's a little more on the ball than most of his friends; he pulls his gun almost immediately.

The false brightness of the room fades, and I blink as my eyes adjust. Manage to catch sight of... _piles_ of money, before the guard closes the door again. The clicking was one of those automatic counter things.

That's...huh…

Footsteps. I can see the guard moving; better, after I enhance my vision again. I get a now-familiar jolt from my Charm, as he 'sees' me, but he doesn't react.

The lights turn on. He stiffens, and his gun comes up to point at me.

I watch. Don't move. Even when he edges closer and nudges me with the toe of his boot.

His aim slips, as he stops to look around. "The fuck…?"

"Hey."

He whirls, and I yank, hard, on his pants-leg. His foot lifts; he tips back-

-and hits the gravel of the rooftop. Purposefully this time...I pick up my bat and bring it down as quickly as possible on his gun-hand. He grits out a cry, as I scramble to my feet and kick the gun away. Kick him in the side a couple of times, while I'm at it.

While he struggles to breathe, I relieve him of his belt and drag him over to the other gangster I'd brought up here. With two of them in one place I can make things a _little_ more difficult for them to get loose...I sit them up and tie their hands together, turn them on their sides...shit. _Shit_ , I forgot to pull her gun. I _saw_ her reaching for it.

I throw it over the edge of the building, send the other one after it. Stupid.

If she'd gotten herself back together before I'd brought this guy up... _dammit_.

Okay, enough. Second-guessing myself doesn't help anything. There are two guys downstairs that I can take down right now without any kind of setup.

The noise of those counting machines is much more... _pervasive_ , in the room with them. I watch as they go through that...money. _So much_ money. Just...sitting here, in the hands of a _gang_. This can't be the only place they're keeping their cash, not with only eighteen people to watch it. How much more do they have? How much have the _other_ gangs stolen?

Brockton Bay just keeps getting worse...and I'll bet these people just keep getting richer.

Well screw them.

I grab the first one by the collar and _pull_. Step aside as he falls, and stomp on his stomach the moment he's down. The second one turns, almost immediately, nearly falls over trying to get to his feet. He opens his mouth-

-and catches my bat right across the jaw. He goes down, as the first guy sits himself up. I turn, take two steps, and swing again. He's down, and the second one is weaving for the door. Because _of course_. I close the distance and grab him from behind. Can't get my bat up, quickly, so I hook my arm around his neck and _pull_.

 _Pain_ , in my foot. I hiss, tighten my grip and fall back-

-onto a mattress. Slurred curses from somewhere nearby, distracting, and I cough as an elbow catches me in the ribs.

I lose my grip. He rolls away. Scrambles away toward...the door. _Dammit_. I surge up and follow, tackle him from behind and drive him to the ground again. Struggling. He tries to turn us over, but I plant my knee on his back and get a hold on his hair...drive his head down into the floor. Nothing. So I grit my teeth and do it again. One more time.

Finally, slumps. Which is great. Because I've got to go check on the other guy.

I stand, hiss as my side complains. _Breathe_ , Taylor...just breathe. It's just pain. Nothing's seriously damaged, or it would hurt a _lot_ worse than this.

When I arrive in the room with the money...the man hasn't moved. Good.

 _Good_.

I adjust my mask, reach beneath it to rub at my face. Prod at a sensitive spot forming on my cheek. _Seven_ left. The three below me, and then I can...

...where did the people on the next floor go?

I shift, sweep my surroundings, below, above...nothing. _Shit_...where the hell…? I move-

-out to the stairs, to head down to the next floor. Spot one figure moving toward the front of the building, before they move out of sight. Out of the building? Why would they be _leaving_? I need a better view...the roof.

The pair that I'd brought up are still secure. I ignore them, jog over to the edge of the roof...there's a pair of vans, there, that they're gathered around. They're...agitated. One breaks off, and runs back in, while the rest of them pile into one of the vehicles. Why…?

Oh... _shit_. They're going somewhere. And that other guy is going in-

-to find his friends. He's already on the second floor, moving up the stairs. I move-

-to the _third_ floor, and catch him as he hits the top of the stairs. A low swing to the back of his leg sends him to the ground and he doesn't have a chance to wonder what's happening before I teleport us both up to the room where I'd stuck almost everybody else.

I don't bother trying to secure him. Because there's no point, now.

The rest of the ABB that were in this place are gathered in one place, outside...I don't know _why_ , but that doesn't matter. With all of them on edge and grouped up, this is a wash. I'll have to...I can't really do anything more here, can I? I can't... _dammit_.

Stupid. _Stupid_ , did I even have a plan for what I'd do when I'd cleared this place out? _No_ , I didn't, did I? And what _could_ I have done, except…

Except call for help.

My hands shake, as I clench my fists. And I'm suddenly... _very_ aware of the weight of my phone, in my pocket.

I…

I need to leave. There's nothing more I can do here, so...I need to leave.

The man at my feet hisses, and tries to turn over. I kick him in the face. Teleport to the edge of the roof.

A deep breath in...and I fall. I don't _stop_ falling until I'm far away from that _mess_.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Dad's waiting up for me.

That's...he's still awake. Why is he _still awake_?

I sit down, on the edge of my bed, and watch him shifting in his chair downstairs. It's...well past one, for the second night in a row. And he's up because of a...a _stupid_ argument.

Because the _school_ called him. Because they were 'concerned' for me, since I hadn't shown up for almost a week. Concerned. That's what he'd said, that's what _they'd_ said. They were 'concerned' about my absences, about the fact that I'd decided I didn't want to walk into that _fucking_ hellhole for a few days.

Never concerned about the bullying, no, not beyond making sure I wouldn't suethem for what they _let_ happen. Not about the...the campaign that Emma had _continued_ to wage against me, against my...my social life, and my _grades_ , and... _everything else_.

And now I'm just pissed off again! I went out to calm down, to _not think about this mess_. And the _second_ I come back, it's just…

I yank my mask off, wince, and prod at my cheek. It feels...bruised. Which makes sense. I drop it on the bed, and peel out of my sweatshirt, too. Hiss as my side protests a bit more sharply. Dammit. _Dammit_. And now tonight...oh, sure, I beat on some guys, yay. Except what did it get me, exactly? Other than...bruised ribs, and a lack of sleep?

Did it help me, somehow? Did it _inconvenience_ the ABB?

"Fuck." I stand, as quietly as possible. Undo the belt holding my Bone Charms on, and take my piecemeal costume to my closet, to stow away.

What it _didn't_ do is solve my problems. Dad...dad was right. He...didn't know how bad things were. Not until I told him...not until I threw that in his face. But he was right.

Avoiding the problem, waiting for it to _fix_ itself...it doesn't work. It _never_ works. I'll have to figure something out, but in the meantime…

I need to rest. A glance down, rub at my eyes. It doesn't block my view of dad...sitting in a chair. Waiting for me to come home.

And I just...I can't do this tonight.

I turn back to my closet, grab a change of clothes, and pull out my phone as I-

-start down the sidewalk outside. I'll... _maybe_ Victoria will let me stay, again. Maybe she won't mind me calling in the middle of the night and letting me sleep on her floor.

Yeah.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Victoria meets me in her back-yard. She's sitting on a lawn-chair, and jumps when I appear nearby.

" _Shit_. Will you stop that?" Quiet...she's keeping her voice down. It's...late. I guess that makes sense. "Try _walking_ over, next time. _Please_."

"Sorry...I will." Really. I'll _think_ about it. Next time. I comb my hair back, close my eyes for a second. "And sorry for…inviting myself over, like this."

She sighs, and sits forward, rubbing at her face. "Yeah, well, you sounded kinda shaken up...can we go inside? It's late, and I've got school tomorrow."

Yeah. Yeah, on top of everything else, I probably woke her up, so...that's fine. I can't fault her for not feeling like conversation.

I pad over and hold out my hand. She stands, and takes it. And then we're in her room.

"Great." She reaches out and ruffles my hair before turning away and collapsing on her bed. "'Night."

... _okay_. "...thanks."

"Mmhm."

Quiet. I guess she's out. Which is fine. I'll just find a place to…

Oh. There's...a pillow, and a blanket laid down on the floor. Because Victoria put them out for me, after I...called at two in the morning.

... _fuck_.

I turn, and sit down. Work my shoes off, carefully, quietly. Don't want to wake her. Don't want to...bother her. More. She's got school.

I set my clothes aside and stretch out as best I can. Wince, and turn onto my good side. Try to...relax. Sleep.

Sleep is better than having to _think_ about this crap.

It'll be waiting for me in the morning, after all…


	16. Chapter 12

I wake up, and the ceiling is gone. Which is...huh.

 _Oh_. No, this is familiar. The bright light, blue sky...and that _noise_ , on the edge of my hearing. Like the wind off the bay. Combined with the _stillness_ of this place, it's not particularly comforting.

'The Void'. Now that I think about it, it's pretty fitting...I blink, slowly, and settle back to watch as an island drifts by overhead. Looks like one of those expensive tourist-traps from the boardwalk, only... _old_ , and falling apart. Is it supposed to mean something? Don't most dreams have all kinds of hidden meaning?

"But then, this isn't _really_ a dream, is it?"

I _flinch_ , and push myself upright...the Outsider. Looking up at the 'sky', not paying any attention to me, but still reading my thoughts like it's nothing.

"Is that what I'm doing?"

He turns empty eyes on me, and I manage...not to look away immediately. Which is something. But then I focus on the floor, and stand up. Shake off the momentary disorientation while he _watches_ , just like he does every time he decides to show up out of nowhere…

He's gone when I look up again.

Alright then.

So, here I am, in...I don't know. I don't _think_ it's really Victoria's room. More like a representation of it? That makes sense...especially considering Victoria is glowing.

* * *

 _ **Shining** , a lighthouse, warning and welcome in one. Impregnable to all. It **demands** and **defies** , but a protective limb shields my eyes and I see._

* * *

I move a little closer, squinting past the light. It's weird, seeing her frozen in place and looking like she's _burning_ , under her skin. Sitting on the edge of her bed, hunched over...I think it's a picture. I can't make out any details, between the glow, and the way she's clutching it, but…

This is...weird. Or it feels weird. Invasive. I think I'll just...leave.

Yeah.

I turn to the door, and pause when I realize it's already open a crack. Somebody is there. For a moment, I think I might need to...I don't know, fight? Run? Except I realize they're probably frozen, too. So...not a problem, but maybe blocking the door. Not that _that's_ a problem, because besides the ceiling, half the wall is missing. I guess that's useful...I move-

-dropping to the floor on the other side. This...isn't the hallway I remember. It's too brightly lit, tile instead of hardwood...wait. No, this is...this is a hospital? I turn back to where the door should be, and it's right there. Victoria's room, just jammed into place. And the watcher...it takes me a second, with the light from inside casting everything in such stark contrast, but that's...Amy?

I move unconsciously around the shadow she casts...and that's definitely Amy. Which is...alright. She's...checking up on her sister? Worried? Why the hospital, though?

* * *

 _Hands grope uselessly at me, dripping clay like river-mud. Sharp things unfold behind me to nudge them away before they can **sculpt** and **change**..._

* * *

Does it matter? Probably not.

"Do I need to be here?" I look around again...see _purple_ light flickering, down the hall. Which is probably as much an answer as I'm going to get right now. Which is fine. I can play ball. Walk down a creepy hospital hallway that really shouldn't be here, toward the creepy light, because _why not_?

There's an open doorway, and I step through into a...not a hospital room. Or, I don't think it is. It's too big; there are almost twenty beds in here, jammed in next to each other. Every one is occupied by a body frozen in time...people in gang colors. ABB.

"The hell?"

"No matter where you go, you will find them."

 _Shit_. I turn, as the Outsider steps up beside me. What the hell?

"The dull and disillusioned, flocking together in the hopes that they might find their fortunes. But the men and women that they choose to follow so rarely deliver on those promises. So often...they offer only more pain."

He moves, toward one of the beds, and after a few seconds I follow. This particular guy is battered, bruised, but he seems _mostly_ alright. Except for the bandage around his neck. Now that I think about it...now that I look again...he's not the only one. That seems...it can't be a coincidence, right? What does that mean, though? If it does mean anything?

"Of course, not all of these people were _willing_ followers. I suppose that makes some difference, doesn't it?"

"What?" That draws my attention immediately, because...not 'willing'? What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? "They seemed pretty willing to shoot at people in the middle of the street last night. To _bomb_ the city for a week and a half."

Silence, and a steady nod...the Outsider looks at me again. Curious. "Is that why you fight them?"

There's a _yes_ , right on the tip of my tongue, but something about this whole thing makes me stop, and consider his question a little more carefully. Is that why I've been going after them? I never really... _decided_ to focus on the ABB. Not really...they were just the ones I'd run into the most. And I'd gone after them sometimes even before the bombs…

"Isn't that a good enough reason?"

"There are those that might not agree." I fight to stay _still_ as the hospital falls away around us, bits and pieces being replaced at random, until we're standing in the middle of a street...in the middle of a fight.

It's a mess. Men, women...the _large_ majority of them are ABB, but there are more than a few capes...I don't recognize all of them, but I pick out a couple that _might_ be from Faultline's crew. And...those are definitely some of the Undersiders.

* * *

 _Too many shapes and forms, **too much at once, and gEntleLimbs tuRn my Eyes aw-**_

* * *

How many of these people _are_ there? I try to move through the crowd, but for every group I manage to get past, there's another just waiting to trip me up. Finally I have to stop, because this is stupid. There are rooftops _right over there-_

-so I might as well get a decent view of the fight. Battle? Considering the numbers involved, I think that might be more accurate. It even _looks_ like a war zone; what isn't covered in patches of darkness is either on fire or filling with bodies, weapons, and broken pavement. And I just...when the hell did it get this bad? This is _insane_.

"It may be what drives them. Their own insanity, or the insanity of others." I glance up, but the Outsider is focused on the people below. "But there's nothing new in that, is there? _This_ …" He waves a hand at the street below, and turns to look at me. "This is where power so often leads, isn't it?"

"You don't need super-powers to be a bad person." I turn back to the frozen battle below, scowling at nothing in particular. "These people could have done something _good_ with their powers. Instead they just…" Wreck things. Steal and _hurt_. "They're _selfish_."

"I wonder, then...are your motivations more pure?"

My stomach clenches.

"Have you never felt the urge...to take your revenge? On the ones who have wronged you?"

I have. More than a few times, I've just wanted to... _hurt_ them. And it'd be easy. I might even be able to get away with it, without being found out.

I look up again, and meet his eyes. "Heroes don't do that."

There's a long moment of silence, as we watch each other. And, just before I think I'm going to have to look away...he nods, and turns to walk away from the edge of the roof. "They don't."

Right.

I move to follow him, and stumbled as the gravel disappears, replaced by concrete a rooftop anymore, this is a broken down...warehouse? No, a boathouse. I think. It might not even be broken down. The fact that there are holes everywhere might just be because of where we are...where we _actually_ are. That being the 'Void'.

Wait, are those the Wards?

I frown, and start towards them, edging around piles of yellow foam, captured ABB. There are men in full-body armor, Kevlar and high tech chain-mail. PRT troops? I don't know much about how they usually work, but this seems a little strange…

It's taking me much longer to cross this room than it really should...and I belatedly realize that _Vista_ being here is the most likely cause. Considering the ways she's waving in my direction...her power lets her warps space, if I remember right.

* * *

 _I look on it from a great distance, but it's still so **close**. It affects its place, its own relativity, simply by **existing**. A soft chittering in my ear, **frustration** from the **thing beHindM-**_

* * *

I shake my head, and teleport to her side. From there I can skirt the wall, and circle around to get closer to the center of the action. Which, in this case, isn't very active. Clockblocker, with his hand on...something. Some kind of machine. And I flinch as it flickers, letting out a single _click_ before stopping again. The sound was almost deafening, in the near-silence...

* * *

 _It isn't holding the thing anymore. Or yet? But at the same time, it still **is**. The way it twists in and around itself is **sickening** , and I have to look away._

* * *

Is that Bakuda?

I move around another PRT guy, blink at the woman, frozen in mid-fall. The gas mask and bandoleer of grenades makes me think 'yes'...the fact that it looks like she's missing a foot makes me a little less certain. _She_ flickers too, as I watch; this time, I don't flinch. What _is_ that? Everything I've come across so far, here, has been frozen...?

Clockblocker's power lets him freeze things in time. If this was something that...happened? Is happening? Then he must have frozen Bakuda and that thing. Which, now that I think about it, is probably a _bomb_. So his time-freezing is interacting with the Void's time-freezing? Somehow?

"These children fight because they are told. Because they believe their power is a calling."

I shiver, turn away from the villain to see the Outsider, examining the bomb.

They 'believe'...implying that it might not be true. "If you've got power, then you _should_ use it to help people…" I frown. "You...when you gave me these powers, you said it was my choice how I use them. Why are you questioning me now?"

He looks up. "Is there a better way to get an answer?"

"...I _want_ to help people."

"Because you have been helpless?"

I grit my teeth. "Yes."

He nods, and there's another long moment of quiet before the world shifts again.

And I'm alone, in Victoria's room.

" _Once, there was a village by the sea. There were helpless people there."_ I look around, but his voice echoes from everywhere. " _They were afraid of the world...and fear became their tool. They succumbed to it, and thought that it was strength."_

That's...what? What's he talking about now?

" _There is no village there anymore. It was worn away by time, and forgotten."_

The light starts to fade, and I feel...weak. Can't help myself, as I slump to the floor.

" _And that's the way of things."_

" _They...end."_

I wake up, for the second time.

From the way I'm shivering, the cold sweat clinging to me, this time it's real. And...it's early. I can tell that much already. The sun's not even up yet..

I don't think I'm going back to sleep.


	17. Chapter 13

The neighborhood is quiet. Not surprising, considering the sun is _just_ starting to rise. Between the lingering darkness and the early hour, I'm not too concerned about being spotted as I teleport in.

Dad's asleep in his chair, downstairs.

Of course he is. Why wouldn't he stay there, just waiting for me to come home? I should have _expected_ that...for a few seconds, I seriously consider just going in the front door, waking him up. Except that wouldn't accomplish anything except another argument; we're both tired, we're both angry...nothing will change except for how stressful a morning we'll have.

I move straight up to my room instead. Again.

Waking him up won't do anybody any good. So I'll just get into some clean clothes, and grab what I'll need for... _school_. I'll go. I'll _try_. It's only a couple more months, and then I can consider other options. By that point, I might even have everything figured out enough to tell dad about the cape...stuff.

After taking some time to think it over, I grab what little cash I have that didn't go to Victoria for my costume. More than enough for breakfast, since it looks like I won't be eating here...I pause, at the window, then turn back to grab my glasses off my desk. It's the little things that I keep _forgetting_. I should really work on that.

It doesn't take long to get back to the rooftops. The skyline. I have to smile, at that, think about how it's become such a habit now. How it drives Victoria a little crazy. It may have started as just the 'obvious' way to get around, but I actually really like hanging around up here, now. I'm not sure _why_. Everything always looks so...exposed. Empty.

I remember, _vaguely_ , going backstage at...was it a play? Maybe. But it had the same sort of feeling. I think I almost wandered away, trying to explore it all. But mom…

...huh. That's something I haven't thought about in...forever. Actually, I'm a little surprised I still remember it at all.

I stop, as I 'step' up onto the edge of a building that overlooks a good portion of downtown. A gust of wind threatens to take me over, and I have to fight to regain my balance enough to step down onto the gravel. That moment of nearly-falling was good, though. Bracing. I breathe, and between the cool air and my racing pulse, I barely feel my lack of sleep.

It looks like the sun is coming up. I move across the roof, considering my surroundings. I'm pretty high up, but I _could_ get a little higher. I've got the time to waste.

The next building over isn't much of an improvement, but the one just beyond _that_ should do the trick. It takes a couple of 'hops', and I spend a few, breathless seconds falling through the air, but then I've got my feet under me again. My backpack is fine, I didn't lose my phone...and I've found my view.

I wasn't usually up before sunrise, before. Even after I took up jogging, I never really took the time to _watch_ it. It just sort of happened. But I'm feeling...I don't know, thoughtful. Or maybe I'm just trying to fill the time.

Either way, it's a nice distraction. The sun is just a blur of orange light on the horizon, and the way the colors play across the sky and water makes everything look like a post-card. From this angle, most of the Boat Graveyard is obscured by some building or another, and you could almost miss the rising wisps of dark smoke from somewhere in the Docks.

Impossible to miss is the Protectorate HQ, just sitting out there. The building itself is just dark _shape_ , but it's an _iconic_ shape. A beacon of 'hope'. The heroes are right there, where everyone can see them. Just waiting to spring into action.

Honestly, I'd like to see a little more 'springing' than 'waiting'. Which...isn't really fair. I shouldn't think that way. They do what they can. The fact that the Villains have outnumbered them from the beginning isn't their fault.

I sigh, drop my backpack to settle down on the building's edge. Time to kill...how am I going to handle school? It's obvious (it's _always_ been obvious) that just keeping my head down doesn't work. And the fact that I can't really bring myself to care about the classes anymore is probably just as much of a problem as the trio. I can 'consider my options' at the end of the year, that much I've decided already...but have I ever bothered to figure out what 'options' those are?

No. I haven't. I've been too busy chasing after small-time crooks and street thugs. Cracking skulls and thinking I was actually _accomplishing_ something. And maybe I had, maybe it had helped...I hear the faint growl of an engine, even from all the way up here. A glance down at the street below, and I snort at the sight; a military truck, one of those big, canvas covered things. Idling at a stoplight. I'd heard that the national guard had been called in, but I hadn't seen anything yet myself.

I watch it rumble away toward the Docks, and shake my head. Because at this point? I can't even bring myself to be upset about the fact that things have gotten that bad.

The sun is still rising. I can almost make out the shape of it, when I squint.

"Once there was a village by the sea…and there were helpless people there."

Huh.

I stand, and brush myself off, bending down to grab my backpack again.

"We don't have to _be_ helpless…"

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

I'm sitting on the school's roof, trying to stomach the fast food I'd picked up for breakfast, when my phone starts vibrating. Victoria, of course...she's the only one with this number, so it couldn't really be anyone else.

' _You ok? Left pretty earlier.'_

'Early'. And I had. Before anybody else had been awake, definitely. I frown at the keypad, trying to get it to cooperate as I type. ' _Couldn't sleep. Didn't want to bother you too much.'_

I set the phone down, but it buzzes again almost immediately.

' _Jfc.'_ I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean, but another message comes in before I can ask. ' _Whatever. Wanna talk about what happened?'_

I'd really rather not. ' _It's a long story.'_

' _Tellll meeeee'_

But she's not letting it go. Right. ' _Later. I'm headed to class.'_

I turn the phone off, and set what's left of my food aside. I'm not sure I could finish it right now even _if_ it weren't nearly time for me to go. My stomach is twisting at the _thought_ of subjecting myself to this crap again.

And...it's stupid. Because it's just _school_. I can handle _school_ …

I'll be fine.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

I think I was severely underestimating both how tired I was and how _irritating_ Winslow can be. At least the guys I beat up have the decency to just _shoot_ you. And I can hit _them_ in the face when they bother me.

And however _appealing_ the image of taking my bat to Emma and her cronies might be, that's the _last_ thing I need right now. It wouldn't do me any good except as _momentary_ stress relief. _I'd_ be the one paying for it though. Between the school already labeling me a troublemaker, Emma's popularity, and her Lawyer dad, I'd probably just wind up in jail. Worse, if I used my powers and got caught.

 _If_ …

No, that's not a line of thought I need to explore.

Right now...right now I've got one more obstacle to get past before I can get some _sleep_. I'm just really hoping this doesn't turn into another shouting match, because I don't need that right now. At all.

I unlock the door, push it open, and shut it behind me with a clearly audible _thunk_. "I'm home!" Yes I am. I'm home, after a completely normal day. Nothing to be worried about...I hear footsteps, adjust the set of my backpack as dad appears.

He looks...about as tired as I feel. Now I'm hoping _I_ don't look that bad, because the last thing I need is for him to worry over my sleep sche-

" _God_ , Taylor!" I wince as he hugs me, _painfully_ reminded of the hits I'd taken last night. "I was so worried about you!" I don't have a chance to do more than stand there before he's drawing away. His hands on my shoulders keep me rooted in place. "Where have you been?" His focus shifts to my face, and I realize just a little too late that, yes, there's a bruise there. "What happened? Did you get...you weren't mugged, were you?"

" _No_." I need to put a stop to _that_ before he gets...worked up. "I didn't get mugged." A careful shrug, and I look away, reach up to adjust my glasses. "Some idiots were screwing around in the halls and I got a little too close is all."

He doesn't believe me, but it's because he thinks it was _them_. Better than the truth. "You went to school?"

"Yeah."

His hands finally drop. "You didn't come home last night…"

"I was at Victoria's."

Discomfort. Understanding. "Right...right. That...that's good." An awkward silence; I have to stifle the urge to yawn. "You couldn't give your old man a call?" His smile is strained, the attempt at humor falling flat.

"I should have." That much is true. If I hadn't been out and about first, if it hadn't been so late when I actually came back...I wouldn't have thought about it then, either. I sigh. "Sorry, dad."

He sighs, rubbing at his face. "No, I...well, actually, that's good. You _should_ have called me." Another smile, but it drops quickly. "But...it was probably a good idea. Give us both a chance to cool off a bit." He hesitates, then sighs. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I just...I thought that things were getting _better_ …"

"And they weren't."

It stings him, but he nods. "Apparently not."

I guess it's my turn to apologize, then. "You already have enough to worry about, dad. I just...didn't want to add to it." And _that_ turned out wonderfully, didn't it? "I was handling it. But then I missed a few days, and…"

"And you just didn't go back."

"...yeah."

He nods again. "I _know_ that it's hard, kiddo. _God_ , I wish you didn't have to go either."

"But we can't afford anything else, yeah. I know that too." His jaw clenches, as he looks away. I guess that did sound more accusing than it should have. "It's okay, dad. Summer break is just a couple months away, and then we can figure something out, right?"

A long pause, before he smiles...it's still a _tired_ smile, but it's still leagues better than his last couple of tries. "That sounds like a plan to me."

Okay, great. So...that's taken care of? I guess?

I shift, reached up to tug at my backpack's strap. "Can I go to my room, then? I'm...pretty worn out."

He startles, slightly, and looks around. Maybe just realizing that he _is_ sort of standing between me and the rest of the house. "Ah...right." He clears his throat and steps aside, looking sheepish. "Sorry, kiddo. I'll keep it down a bit, down here."

"Thanks." I nod, and make a beeline for the stairs-

"I'll come get you for dinner?"

Well, I will need to eat. I glance over my shoulder as I start up. "Sounds good!"

"Do you have any homework!?"

…

"No!"

I stop, at the top of the stairs, but I guess that was enough, because he's moved on. Which means now _I_ can get some rest. Hopefully without the weird dreams...I kick off my shoes as I step into my room, drop the backpack as I close the door. Three steps toward the bed, and I allow myself to collapse forward into the mattress.

Not the _best_ idea I've ever had. Not the _worst_ , either, but I really need to keep my poor _ribs_ in mind.

I turn on my side, pull my pillow into a more comfortable position, and let myself _relax_. It doesn't take any time for me to start to drift-

My phone buzzes.

I make a concentrated effort _not_ to scream into my _very comfortable_ pillow...and ignore it. That's easy enough to do. Just a matter of closing my eyes and pretending it never…

There it goes again. I thought I'd turned it _off_ this morning. When the hell did I turn it _back on_? I guess that doesn't matter right now; I sit up, slowly, and work it out of my pocket with a bit of effort. I could...throw it out the window? That would be nice. But I might regret it, later. Dammit.

I close my eyes for a second, then sigh and check the messages. Manage to get through the first two before the third shows up.

' _Hey are you free?'_

' _Taayyyloorr'_

' _You'd better not be ignoring me. ):'_

Okay. I can... _handle_ this. I pull off my glasses (should have done that before I tried laying down, anyway), rub at my eyes, and then set about getting a response typed up.

' _I wasn't. Just trying to take a nap.'_

The expected, short pause…

' _Wake up then you should come over and explain some things to me.'_

That doesn't sound like something I want to do right now. ' _Can we do this some other time?'_

' _I have presents!'_

That...wait, presents?

' _and fudgesciles!'_

It takes a second...but then I choke, press a hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter. Victoria _does_ seem to be fond of the 'ice cream bribe'. It's sort of stupid, but...well, it made _me_ smile. Which I guess might have been the point.

I'm tired, and stressed, and I _know_ for a fact that she's just going to have questions that I don't really want to answer. But...I could go for a fudgesicle. And she's going to keep bothering me about it anyway.

' _Fine_.'

I stand, tuck the phone away, and take a few seconds to shake off the fatigue that had settled in from that _brief_ attempt at sleep. Easy enough. And it's not like _getting_ to Victoria's is going to be any trouble…

Although...this time, I think I'll tell my dad where I'm going.

That's probably a good idea.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

I made good time (as expected). I find Victoria sitting on the roof outside what must be her window, a tiny cooler and a cardboard box sitting next to her. She waves at me, from across the street, and I return the gesture...wait a few seconds before-

-crouching down at her side, just a couple feet away. Not quite as startling, maybe? "Alright, so I'm here."

"Awesome." She smirks, pulling the cooler open with one hand and gesturing with the half-eaten ice cream bar in the other. "I was worried I'd wind up having to eat all of these."

"I'm sure you were…" She tosses one my way, and I fumble it for a second, almost fall over before I manage to catch it and sit down properly. " _Thanks_."

"Hey, you caught it, didn't you?"

Okay then...I shift, edging my way over so I can put my back to the side of the house and settle a bit more comfortably. "I also could have slid off the roof. And then where would I be?"

"I'unno." She mumbles it past a mouthful of ice cream. "Righ ere?" I roll my eyes, and take the time to unwrap _my_ bar as she worries hers away to nothing. "Mmf...but you can teleport. You would'a been fine."

I've broken my neck before, even _with_ my teleporting. And I don't have any Charms on me, right now, so if I did, I'd get no warning. Not that I'm going to bring _that_ up. Something less depressing, maybe. "What are you doing out _here_ , anyway?"

Gah. Cold…

"I dunno, I figured I'd give it a shot. You seem so big on roofs, there's gotta be something about them." She shrugs and settles back, gnawing on the popsicle stick. "Besides, this way you didn't have to knock or anything. Considering how twitchy you get whenever my family comes up, I figured it'd be a good idea."

Twitchy? "I don't get _twitchy_."

"You _totally_ do." She smirks again. "I mean, I get being star-struck, and all. I don't mind it."

She's messing with me. I huff and ignore her in favor of that box. "So. What's this about presents?"

"That depends. What's with you showing up to crash on my floor in the middle of the night?"

Here we go. "I went out. Stuff happened. It got late, and I needed to sleep."

She rolls her eyes, reaches up to poke the side of my head. "And why didn't you go home?"

"...I got in a fight with my dad."

She nods, holding the popsicle stick between her teeth as she picks up the box and settles it on her lap. "Why's that, though? You and your dad seemed pretty tight."

"That's part of the problem." I grumble. "He gets so worked up about...stuff. And when he gets worried...he's got a temper." She gives me a _look_ , and I'm quick to clarify. "And I inherited it. Things get...heated, sometimes. He wouldn't let go of the issue, and I blew up at him."

"Wow." She pulls a face. "That sucks."

"Kind of, yeah."

A few moments of silence. I eat my ice cream, she picks at the tape on the box…

"Right, okay." A sharp tug splits the top open, and she offers the whole thing over. "Aunt Sarah managed to get you a _bit_ of a discount on the costume, so we put a little money towards something else for you."

Oh. "Really?" She nods, and I take it with my free hand, setting it down and opening it up as best I can, pushing aside packing paper so I can reach the whatever-it-is...huh. Heavy, round, and wrapped up in a heavy nylon holster. "What is it?" It looks a little like one of those high-end flashlights…

" _They_ are 'expandable batons'." She does the air-quotes and everything, reaching out to pull another one from the box, and then out of its holster. "I mean, you've got that bat, and that's great and all, but it doesn't exactly fit the 'professional' image, y'know?" When I just look at her, she rolls her eyes. "Just eat your fudgesicle and watch."

Alright then. I eat my fudgesicle and watch, as she lifts off the roof and settles on her feet. She spends a few seconds turning the baton over in her hands before tightening her grip and flicking her hand down. A sharp, almost metallic _snap_ nearly makes me jump...she offers it over, and I set the one I'd been holding on the roof to take it.

It's still got a heft to it, but the weight has shifted...obviously. I turn it around to hold the grip, wave it a couple of times...it seems pretty sturdy, I guess? "So you're saying I should trade up from my bat?" I mean, I wouldn't mind it...but I do kind of _like_ my bat…

"Well, like I said, these are a bit more slick. And you can carry them easier." She smirks, and moves to sit down again. "Less likely to leave one behind somewhere, when you can just stick it in your pocket."

Yeah, okay. I can see her point _there_...wait a second. "Why are you smiling like that? I've never just left my bat behind." That she knows.

"Really? 'Cause that's not what Aegis said."

... _dammit_. "You talked to Aegis?" That was only a couple of nights ago, though. How…?

"No, but I talked to Gallant. _He'd_ been talking to Aegis."

That...doesn't make much more sense. But I get the point. "So superheros _do_ gossip. Good to know."

She grins, and shrugs. "Well, now you've got cool toys. Less to gossip about." A pause. "Oh, yeah. Also, those _aren't_ like a baseball bat. Like, completely different." She starts digging in the cooler, unwrapping another bar as I finish mine. "So you're gonna have to do a little work with uncle Neil before you can go out with'em."

"What?"

"Yeah, 'cause these are actually designed as weapons? Well, I mean, they're made for 'self-defense', but you can seriously screw someone up. Not that you can't do that with a _baseball bat_ , but you have to work a little harder at it." A pause, as she gestures vaguely. "So, you get practice-time with Manpower." Another smirk. "I'll let you know when you need to show up. In costume, if you want to keep the particulars between us."

That's…

That's actually a good idea. If I'd had the money, I would have considered taking some self-defense classes anyway. "Okay. That...should work out?"

"Glad you think so." She nods, turns her attention to the sky as a cloud drifts overhead. "It'll be cool. You'll like him, I think. It's kinda hard not to."

Uh-huh. I drop my bare popsicle stick in the box that had held the batons, give the one I'm holding a closer inspection. It really should have occurred to me to find something similar, early on…

"So why were you fighting with your dad?"

Oh. Guess she wasn't done with the questions, then. I take a deep breath, let it out slowly. "It's a long story." I don't want to talk about it.

Victoria doesn't seem to care so much about that. "I don't have much in the way of homework. Free time galore."

"...yeah?" My head tips back to rest against the side of the house, and I close my eyes. "Just gonna listen to me complain about life, huh?"

"Well, I mean...this sounds a lot bigger than trouble with your dad. And I'd kinda like to know before I _really_ step in it." A moment of quiet. "Honestly, Taylor? I'd like to say I trust you. But I haven't really known you for that long, and you've pulled some stupid shit. A little openness goes a long way."

Of course _she_ would say that. New Wave being what it is…

She's also probably right. And while I don't think I'm going to be telling her (or _anyone_ ) about the Outsider any time soon...maybe it won't hurt to talk about it. Venting is supposed to be good for you, right?

I sigh, and let my head drop forward again.

"Alright...I guess it starts...around the time my mom died."

I talk.

And Victoria...listens.


	18. Chapter 14

My hands are trembling, but I can't really do anything about that just now. I just breathe, as quietly and _steadily_ as possible, while I watch my target pace. He can't see me, I know that, but I keep _expecting_ it...I lean forward to brace myself against the wall I'd put between us, keep up my watch, and _think_.

He's searching, but not moving. Waiting for me to come to him, but he's not making it easy. I could wait, see if he lets his guard down...no, that's not a plan; I don't know how much time I've got. And I can't just _run_ from this, either. I'm not sure what that leaves. A head-on attack would be stupid, and I can't exactly-

Eyes on me. Who-

"Hey."

I turn, blink several times as my sight clarifies...she's unfamiliar. Pretty, blonde; I wouldn't have immediately labeled her as related to Victoria, but I've never been the best with that sort of thing...

"Uh…hi?" Okay, so this probably looks...kind of bad. Me in full costume, taking cover inside the Pelhams' house without asking. Yes, I'm here for a good reason, but now that I think about it, this might have been an overstep. A little bit. Not that...um... _crap_ , I don't know her name. Laserdream. She doesn't look particularly _upset?_

More confused, actually. "You're Victoria's friend, right?" She moves off to one side, glancing out the window I'd been carefully avoiding. "Dad said he'd be working with someone today…"

"That's me." I cringe, glance toward the window, then the wall. "Could you not...?" No, that's rude. "I'm hiding. He told me to try and take him by surprise."

She eyes me for a second, then shrugs and steps back again. "Okay."

I relax, slightly. My death-grip on the baton loosens, just a bit, and I frown. Sweating hands. Wasn't really a problem with the tape on the bat, but with this rubberized stuff, I don't know. Might be something to talk about…

"So what are you going to do?"

Oh, right. Getting distracted like this isn't _usually_ a problem. "I'm...not sure yet." I enhance my vision again. Manpower is still pacing outside; I've left him waiting for a long time, it seems like, but he hasn't relaxed very much. Not enough for me to be comfortable popping in behind him. And I'd already eliminated that option. Just like the rest. Can't hit him from the back, or the front…

 _Duh_. "I'm going to have to come in from above." Still, that leaves some concerns. Like...how am I going to incorporate my new weapon? Consider that's the whole _point_ of this exercise, it's something I have to take into account. Dropping down limits me, there, but I can work with it.

I adjust my grip, and grab the baton at both ends. One more glance at him to check the placement, and work the timing in my head...I'll want to teleport immediately after impact, so I'll need the time to recharge. On the conservative side, that's a five second delay. Falling for that long might give me too much force, so I need to cut that, to be safe.

Maybe a longer fall, but higher up? And then I'll reverse things, move in low, let gravity bleed off my momentum, and take the shorter fall into the hit…

No, that'd never time out. I'm overthinking; chaining a couple of teleports won't kill me. I'll start low and deal with it after.

He's moved again, but that's fine. Easy to account for I close my eyes, take a deep breath in preparation-

-and I fall. One, two, three, I'm just off target, but when I lash out (four, five) I feel the impact. The ground is rushing up at me-

-so I turn, facing up at the sky. My stomach flips, blood rushes, and I twist in the air before I reach the apex of my 'fall'. Get my feet under me before I drop again. I land in a crouch and immediately reorient on Manpower, baton at the ready...

"Not a bad trick." He offers me a nod as he rubs his shoulder...he hasn't moved any closer, but I don't relax just yet. "Definitely overdoing it, but against anyone with a decent Brute rating...?"

It's good to know. "I'm not planning on fighting any Capes on my own."

"That doesn't mean you _won't_."

True enough.

A few moments of quiet...I guess we're breaking. I let my guard down, a bit, stand up straight, ease my mental 'grip' on my power. "I've never had to judge that sort of thing with a fall." Maybe something I can practice? I'd need to figure out a way to measure things, but that shouldn't be _too_ hard. "I don't think it'll be one of the first things I think of, though."

"Probably a good thing." He starts forward. Not _hostile_ , just...purposeful. "That was a nice recovery, too. Victoria mentioned that your teleporting doesn't negate your inertia?" It's...true enough, so I nod. "In the future you'll want to be careful with that. In the time it took you to turn yourself around safely, I could have been within arm's reach."

"And I would have been on the defensive."

He grins. "You _have_ been listening."

"Doing my best." This is something to take seriously, after all. "So what's next? Another surprise attack?"

He seems to consider that, for a moment, as he stops in front of me. "No, you seem to have that covered well enough...at this point, I think you just need a little more practice in gauging your hits."

Is that really all? "Is this one of those 'practice makes perfect' things?"

"Pretty much." He grins, and spreads his arms. "And this is as good a chance as any to practice."

It's strange, getting permission from somebody to _attack_ them. But I guess if I could take a hit like he can, I wouldn't have a problem with it either. "You want me to just…" I swing the baton, slowly. He nods again. Can't really misinterpret _that_ , so...I hit him in the ribs.

"Lightening up again? I thought you'd already decided you didn't have a problem trying to hurt me."

I had, but there's a difference between 'fighting' and whatever this is. "I don't really plan to make a habit of fighting other heroes." He just smirks, a little smugly. That's actually pretty helpful.

I hit him again. Now _I'm_ smirking.

"Right. That was a little too hard." I tilt my head, and he shifts his weight. "Try going for a joint this time."

I might as well.

It carries on like that for a time. I hit him, he tries to 'hit' me, and I avoid it by hitting him again. He tells me whether I used an appropriate level of force. Rinse and repeat.

I don't notice that we've drawn an audience until someone applauds a particularly smooth counter. I take a step back, ensure we're done before turning toward the back porch. Victoria and Amy, back from...whatever they'd been going to do. I'd forgotten, honestly.

"Looks like you're picking things up pretty quick." Victoria grins, hands on her hips as she eyes me. "And Crystal said she only found you creeping around inside _once_!"

"That's...I wasn't 'creeping'." My face heats, and I gesture at Manpower with my baton. "He said to try getting the drop on him, and that was the best cover that still gave me line of sight."

Manpower, for his part, just gives me a speculative look. "It's as good a reason as any, I suppose…"

And that's a great impression to leave with the guy taking time out of his Saturday to play punching bag for me. "Sorry. I didn't think about it until after."

He waves it off with a smile. "It really isn't a problem. You were playing it smart. And you're a guest." A pause and he holds out his hand. "Let me see?" The baton, right...I hand it over. It looks _tiny_ in his hands. "Victoria said you already went over how to collapse these?" I nod as he draws back and slaps it down into his open palm with a _smack_. "Alright then. I'd say that you good to go." Another _smack_ , and the baton clicks closed between his hands. "As long as you're careful."

"Got it." I nod, and accept the baton back, tugging my sweatshirt up for a moment to holster it. "Thanks for the help. Really, I appreciate this."

"Least I could do." He claps a hand on my shoulder, and I try not to stumble. "But you really should consider something a little more formal. Parahuman or not, a solid grounding in self-defense will go a long way."

"Sure?"

He chuckles and turns away, moving toward the back door. "You should bring her back some time, Vicky. Your cousins could do with a few surprises when they're practicing."

Oh, that sounds like it would be _terrible_. I shake my head, sharply, but Victoria just keeps _grinning_. "I'm sure she'd love to help, there."

I...really should have expected that. _Ugh_. I watch the door close, sigh, and reach up under my mask to rub at my eyes. "So you're volunteering me to work with your family because…?"

"It amuses me to see you squirm." She tilts her head. "And you can't tell me you don't want to take advantage of a _valuable_ learning experience."

"Uh-huh…"

Amy clears her throat, shooting me a glance before turning her attention to Victoria. "Hey, it's almost three. I'm going to need to get to the hospital soon."

Almost immediately, Victoria's expression drops. "What? But I thought you weren't volunteering today?"

"In the morning. I said I was going in _later_ today."

"I just thought the three of us might go on a patrol together, or something. Cover some more space than we usually do, y'know?"

Amy sighs. "They're expecting me. Sorry…"

"Well, I mean, at least let me take you."

"...yeah. Of course."

Victoria nods, smiling again. Maybe not quite as enthusiastically, but I guess that's to be expected. She turns to me, looking sheepish for a moment. "You busy, for the rest of the day?"

That would be a _definitive_ 'no'. "I'm up for patrolling, if you want."

"Cool. I'll have to grab my costume anyway...meet you on that roof you like to hang out on near my place?"

I roll my eyes. "I don't 'hang out' there. It's just the closest place where I can be out of the way while I wait for you to actually be ready to...hero." Okay, that sounded better in my head.

She smirks, turns to hold her arms out. Amy moves in, Victoria sweeps her up, and they rise into the air in an obviously well-practiced routine. "See you in a bit, then."

I wave, as she flies away, just sort of...linger, for a minute. Before I realize what I'm doing, anyway. Then I teleport away.

Maybe I'll stop by home, for a couple minutes. Let dad know I'll be out for the rest of the day.

Let Victoria do a little waiting, for once.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Downtown in mid-afternoon isn't exactly a hotbed of criminal activity, but we did get the chance to rough up a couple would-be muggers. Or...is that the right term?

"Hey, what do you call a mugger that isn't after money?"

Glory Girl barely glances my way, focused on something in the distance. "Huh...wait, what?"

"What do you call guys who ambush people just to beat them up? Not to steal from them, or whatever."

She snorts. "Assholes."

Right. And that seems to be as much an answer as she's got for me, at the moment.

She's been _pensive_ , like this, for almost ten minutes now. I have this sinking feeling I know why. But I'm not about to start that conversation; all this stuff, the school, the bullies? I'm just looking to put it behind me. If she wants to worry about it, then...then that's not really fair. Dammit. I should never have said anything in the first place. 'Emotional catharsis' aside…

"So…"

Nope. "Manpower was pretty friendly."

She drifts ahead a bit, brows furrowed. But then she sighs, and smiles. "I think he tries a little too hard sometimes."

"I don't know. I didn't think it was so bad."

"Uh-huh." She turns, as we reach the edge of the building. I have to stop, but she just circles around to hover in front of me. "Just remember, that's my uncle." A pause, and she waggles her eyebrows. "My _married_ uncle."

What does that have to do with...oh. "No. Just... _no_." She grins, and I roll my eyes, move across the street. Glory Girl's laughter heralds her return, and I do my best to ignore it as she trails along beside me.

"Oh man, I wish I could have seen your face!" She turns over in the air, rising up to roll over my head. "Seriously, I bet it was just... _urgh_." She faces me again to demonstrate. It's not a flattering expression.

"You really had to put that thought in my head, didn't you?"

"Hey, I saw my chance, and I took it." She settles again, actually dropping to the rooftop to walk with me. "Trust me, you'll look back on this later and you'll recognize my comedic genius."

"I'll bet."

She nods, and hums, folding her hands behind her back. We reach another corner, and this time I offer a hand to take us across. We barely miss a step.

"You know, if you joined the Wards, I bet you could get a transfer to Arcadia."

God. _Dammit_. "I'm already handling the situation."

She scoffs. "The way you told it, your 'handling' isn't working out so well."

"I'm _handling it_."

Silence. And, after a second, Glory Girl lifts into the air again. "Whatever. Come on, there's nothing going on around here." She eyes me, as she rises further. "I haven't seen you 'flying' yet. Think you can keep up with me?"

"I can give it a shot."

She smirks, and accelerates straight up. I take a running leap off the building and follow her.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

At some point this whole thing stopped being about finding bad-guys. I _think_ it was about the time Victoria decided it would be a good idea to nudge me into a spin while I was building up my momentum again. And, yes, I _may_ have retaliated by...using her as a springboard, to change direction.

Eyes at my back, and I twist in the air, trying to get a good idea of how long I-

"You're it!" The open-handed slap catches my arm and sends me tumbling to the side, and I barely hear her laughter over the wind as she takes off again. Tricky. I move-

-straight up to recover, and see if I can't get a bead on her. The rooftops rush up at me from below, but I've got time...there. A flash of white and gold darting in low. I straighten out, and pick a point that _seems_ to be on her level-

-and my stomach flips as I appear, there. 'Falling' is 'flying' again; at least for the next few seconds. Enough time for me to spot her again, to orient myself properly, to make sure I'm not going to run into anything when I move closer.

I'm dropping, arcing towards the ground-

-and then up. Glory Girl glances back, spots me almost immediately. Her eyes widen, and she makes a hard left, looking to lose me by darting between buildings. I just go up, again, let my speed bleed away until I can twist in the air-

-and land, feet-first, on her back, my legs collapsing under me to kill whatever momentum I'd had left.

" _You're_ it!"

She yowls indignantly as I push away, and I just barely dodge a backhanded swipe. I watch her as I fall, and grin beneath my mask.

And then I'm in the sky again, and doing my best to gain some distance before Glory Girl can recover enough to spot me and give chase. I learned pretty quickly that I can't match her in raw speed or acceleration. But I can make up for that with a little bit of subterfuge...I've been spotted. Guess it's time to move.

I go _down_ , directing myself away from the prickling feeling that's settled at the back of my neck. Skimming low over the rooftops won't slow her down at all; Glory Girl has far more control in the air than I do, so she doesn't have to be nearly as careful. She _will_ catch up.

But that's fine. Because I'm not looking to outrun her.

As I hit the top of my next arc, I turn to look...there she is. Bearing down on me with a vicious, victorious grin.

I wait, I count, and as she puts on a burst of speed to close the last few feet-

-I appear in the alleyway I'd passed just a few seconds before.

Inertia carries me up, and impulse has me reaching out to grab the railing of a fire-escape before I can rise any further. The whole thing rattles and I hang, almost weightless, for a moment. But then gravity reasserts itself, and I plant a foot on the edge of the platform, catching myself...easily enough.

Quiet. I do my best not to break it, as I pull myself over onto the platform proper...no Glory Girl swooping in. I think I might have actually pulled that off. _Ha_. I lean against the railing, and take a few moments to catch my breath. I feel shaky, and _aware_ ; probably adrenaline. I could _definitely_ get used to the feeling.

Right now, though, I should probably get up to the roof. It wouldn't be very fair to just hide out here for the rest of the day. A moment of remember a bit more detail than 'flat', and I close my eyes,-

-drop a few feet to land in a crouch in the gravel.

Eyes on me already, above, toward the next building over. She must have been circling. Probably assumed that I'd try something clever like that...

A metallic _crack_. Something _big_ flying toward me.

I don't move in time to avoid it, and then I'm on my back, and there's _pain_ , lancing through my neck and shoulder. Weight pressing me into the gravel; I try to cry out as something _hisses_ by my face, but I can't do more than gasp uselessly for breath.

Cold, settling in around the pain. A steady _whirr_ , ragged breathing…

 _Move_.

I'm falling. Except that isn't right, I realize as something hits my mask and snaps my head back. _We're_ falling.

I push, and hear a strangled curse, a metallic _snap_. The pain in my neck doubles almost immediately, but I have greater range of motion…

How long have we been falling?

I don't risk it. Back up. And then up again. And, finally, I blink away the stars in my eyes and get a look at my _attacker_. The face-mask covers his mouth and nose, but it's his _eyes_ nearly throw me. I don't like what I see there.

Up. This time I see him pulling back to hit me, and I bring an arm up to defend myself. It _hurts_ , and sets us spinning, but I can't risk getting knocked senseless. Not here…

A hand snakes past my guard, gripping the front of my sweatshirt. More pain as something _jostles_...he fucking _stabbed me_ and there's something still _stuck_ there. I finally take a steady breath-

-and take us up, _again_ , before he pulls me close enough to smell his rancid breath as he screams in my face.

" _WHY DO THEY WORK FOR YOU!?"_

I try to twist away, but that just turns us over. An elbow to the side of my head nearly knocks my mask out of place.

" _TELL ME!"_

I don't know where we are anymore. I _really_ don't want to hit the ground from here. I _want_ to get away from this psycho.

So I move us, one more time. Feel the shift of momentum as we climb. Feel the scrabbling of rats beneath my sweatshirt as I summon them, and the moment of bone-deep _weariness_ as I assert my control over them immediately after. Too much, too quick, but I'll manage...they swarm him, clawing their way out of my sleeves and hood to latch on. Several go for his bloodied hands...bloody. I can feel the blood soaking my collar. _Shit_.

I can worry about that later. Now, I kick, and shove, and I command the rats to bite and claw. He screams again, wordless frustration, and tries to shake them off. He manages to free one hand, swipes at the rest of the rats for a moment...but then he reaches into the heavy coat he's wearing.

He pulls out a Bone Charm.

Oh, _shit_ …

I let out a breathless cry as he shoves it against my neck...and then I'm free. We're still falling, but he's let go. Why…?

I manage to meet his eyes, just for a moment, before he lifts the bloodied Charm and tears one of the bone pieces out of its mounting.

He's gone.

But I'm still falling.

I turn to look down...I've got a little time. Enough to pick out a good, clear section of roof to appear above. It's almost thoughtless, at this point, to bleed off my momentum before setting myself down. No real effort, there. I still collapse almost immediately, falling to my knees and struggling to regain my breath. To... _process_. Because that was...that whole thing had just…

That had just happened. Out of fucking _nowhere_.

Someone's spotted me. I stagger to my feet as quickly as possible, and turn to...Glory Girl. I almost go to my knees again, relieved, but then she's beside me. Propping me up.

" _Shit_ , T- _Crow_. What happened? I saw you-" Her eyes widen, as she looks down. I try to turn my head enough to see what she's looking at, but another jolt of pain discourages me. I guess it's probably obvious what got her attention, though. "What the _hell_?"

"I don't... _fucking_ know." I hiss. "Can we figure it...out later?" Because right now, I'd really like to stop that bleeding before it gets any worse. "This really-" I gasp as she tries to get my arm up. " _-hurts_."

"Jesus, fine, yeah. Okay." She backs off a bit, and I wince at the bright red that's seeped into her cape at the shoulder. "Dammit, you need to stop this crap. It's just getting ridiculous."

I find myself in agreement. "I'll try."

"'I'll try' she says." A nervous chuckle, before she moves to my other side and just _hauls me off my feet_. "That comfortable?" I glare, but I don't think she can really tell, so it's something of a useless gesture. "Great. We'll get you to my place, we can do some first-aid, and then when Amy gets back from the hospital she can check you over."

God, I have this sinking feeling that I'm going to wind up owing Amy my firstborn or something. "Take it slow, will you?"

"Yeah, yeah. No problem…" I grit my teeth as she lifts off, and do my best to settle in.

We fly in silence, which is good. It gives me time to try and think.

I'd had my concerns about the trap at the last shrine, but I'd let myself forget. Focus on other things. It hadn't _seemed_ like the most important thing to be worried about, with everything else that was happening. But now…?

Now I'm going to have to rethink that.


	19. Chapter 15

I don't like hospitals. It's a very recently formed opinion, and probably not entirely fair, but that doesn't change anything. It really makes me wonder just what I'm doing, sitting stiffly on the edge of an examination bed, killing time while I wait for someone to show up and _fix_ me.

"Why are we at the hospital?"

Glory Girl doesn't turn away from the mirror where she's been fussing over the blood drying on the collar of her costume for the past five minutes. "Because some psycho _stabbed_ you with a needle bigger than the straws at Fugly Bob's."

That's...got to be the weirdest comparison she could have made. "What?"

She pauses, then growls and shakes her head. "It's a _giant needle_ , is my point!"

And I really do get that part. After all, I've been sitting as still as possible since she dropped me here, doing my best to think of anything _other_ than the piece of metal still lodged in me. Or what it might imply about the guy that attacked me. "I thought we were just going for first aid."

"That was before I realized that you'd been _impaled_." She glares at my reflection, and I look away. "If you were still bleeding, we wouldn't just be waiting on Amy. Trust me."

It really is bad enough that she didn't let me walk in under my own power. The way she basically commandeered this room for us to wait in...I can deal with that. Having to bring in actual doctors, making this whole thing into an even bigger thing? No thank you. I'll just shut my mouth and give her this one.

"So what happened back there, anyway? That guy came out of nowhere."

That's the big question, isn't it? I've got my suspicions on the 'who', but the 'why'...I don't know. "I didn't exactly get a lot of warning before he tackled me." All I really know is that he had a Charm. And that means either he found a Shrine and took it...or he built the Shrines, and he's pissed at _me_. For taking the things that were there. Which would...actually, that makes perfect sense.

Shit.

"It was kind of hectic." I try not to sound too much like I'm deflecting. "Not much time to ask questions, you know?"

Although he hadn't had much of a problem with it. ' _Why do they work for you?'_

That had to be important, somehow...

"I'll bet." She pulls a face, tugs at the hem of her cape before turning away from the mirror. "You know, if you hadn't been a cheating teleporter, I wouldn't have been off looking for you three blocks away." Her smile is a little brittle. "So when you think about it, this whole thing is kinda on you."

I smile too, despite myself. Because she isn't wrong. This is probably all on me. Which means that not only is she not wrong, she's _been_...right.

"He had a Bone Charm."

"...he had a _what_?"

The door opens. I'm not sure whether Amy's timing is great, or terrible. Maybe it's just _my_ timing. Or maybe I'm an _idiot_. Why the hell would I choose now, of all times, to just slip something like that into conversation…?

I hiss under my breath as Glory Girl shoots me a sharp look. She watches for a moment before pasting on a smile and turning to her sister.

"Hey, Ames."

"What happened?" Amy is in front of her almost immediately, hands hovering over the spots of red on her costume. "Are you okay?"

Well, it's nice to see that sort of concern. And it's good to know that Glory Girl finds the idea of being hurt so hilarious. "What? No, no, I'm fine." She's grinning as she swats Amy's hands away, but it fades quickly when she turns back to me. "She could use some help, though. This crazy Cape attacked her out of nowhere, and now she's got a giant needle jammed in her neck."

"It's really more into my shoulder." I feel the need to clarify, reaching up to trace down from above my collar, to the point where I feel what I _think_ is the end of the thing. Even that pressure is enough to send a sharp pain up my neck, and I grit my teeth as I settle back again. "I stopped bleeding, but I would really appreciate getting it out." A pause, as she just sort of stares. "I wanted to just yank it out and get bandaged up. _Glory Girl_ insisted we come see you."

"Because you're a dumbass."

Amy takes a deep breath, pinches the bridge of her nose. "That's...it's a good thing you came in, yeah. You probably could have just gone into the emergency room, though."

"I mean, maybe." Glory Girl huffs. "But you're here now, right? And if we can save some time here, maybe we can get back out and do something about this thing."

Wait, was that part of the plan? I wasn't consulted about that. And the last time we went out looking for people, we just wound up wandering around for hours on end. "We can _talk_ about what to do about this."

"Right, that too."

Another few moments of silence, and Amy sighs, stepping around Glory Girl to approach me. "I have your permission to heal you?"

I almost nod before catching myself; that'd be painful, right now. "Uh, yeah."

"Right." She reaches out and takes my hand, eyes going distant...my shoulder goes numb, then the side of my neck. And as nice as not being in pain is, not feeling _anything_ there is almost as bad. "Alright, that's...more than I was expecting. Vicky, can you come over here and pull this thing out?"

"Eargh. Okay, sure." She's there a second later, and I tilt my head back a bit. Pressure, and then a tug. "Oh, what the _hell_?"

I probably would have phrased that a bit more strongly; I swallow, as she holds up the...needle. I mean, it definitely _looks_ like a hypodermic needle. I just didn't know they came in that size. "Okay. So that's different."

"There's a lot of bruising, there." Amy speaks up, eyes narrowed as she stares at my neck. "You weren't injected with anything, but I think...whoever did this was drawing blood."

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

Thanks, Glory Girl. "You're sure?"

Amy rolls her eyes, and I wince as my shoulder goes from 'numb' to 'pins-and-needles'. "I'm pretty sure, yes."

Alright then. He was after blood. That's…I...don't really know what to think of that, right now. "Right. Thanks, Amy."

"Just try to keep it from happening again, please?" She sighs. "It's busy enough around here."

"They've got plenty of doctors here you know."

"And I can help with things they can't take care of themselves."

An awkward sort of silence, and I look away from the pair as they stare each other down...I'm not the only one with family drama. Knew that, but seeing is different, obviously.

"Guess we'll get out of your hair then, huh?" I almost jump as Glory Girl nudges me, and turn my attention back to her. She waves the needle in front of me until I reach out to take it, then turns back to her sister. "See you at home."

Amy lingers in the doorway, but then steels herself, and nods "Sure."

The door closes. For a few seconds, Glory Girl is just sort of standing in front of me, watching it. And here I am, sitting here, wondering if I'm supposed to say anything. Maybe just wait? That seems like the best option. Gives me a chance to stretch my neck out, a bit, and figure out what I'm supposed to do with this needle...thing.

 _Shit_. It's got to be almost six inches long. No wonder it hurt like hell…

"Hey." I look up, and blink owlishly as Glory Girl presses a finger against one of the lenses on my mask. "Take us outside. I want to get home so I can take a _shower_. And some clean clothes or something."

"Sorry for...bleeding on you?"

"That's great!" She grins, and I rock back for a second as she pushes. "So you can make it up to me by telling me about how some random Cape out of nowhere got his hands on one of those creepy-ass things you keep telling me are so useful."

Figured that was coming. I sigh, stand, and grab her arm to take us to the roof. "Just...let me know when you want to meet."

" _Oh_ yeah. I'll give you a call." She waves, lifting into the air before accelerating away.

It probably won't take her very long to get _her_ stuff settled. Which means I don't have much time myself. Time to clean up, to change into something that isn't quite as bloody...and to figure out just how much I really know. How much of that I'm willing to share.

She's been worried enough about the Bone Charms. I can only imagine how she'd react if I actually told her about the Outsider.

Speaking of…

"I don't suppose you have any cryptic advice for me?"

Nothing.

"Yeah, I didn't think so."

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

It should surprise me more that, despite all the shit that's happening in Brockton bay, the Boardwalk is still drawing a crowd.

Late in the day, it's a _quiet_ sort of crowd, but that doesn't change the fact that these people...I don't know. It all seems ridiculous, somehow. "Not where I would have chosen."

"That's kinda the point." Victoria glances back at me, like she's trying to make sure I'm still following her. I can't quite bring myself to meet her eyes. "C'mon." She doesn't miss a step, leading us on ahead. Past shops and kiosks, the obvious tourists and a few groups of equally obvious locals.

There's a man in a suit standing at the door of the coffee shop. Victoria smiles and thanks him as he holds it open for us. _I_ can't help but notice the way his jacket tugs against something hanging under his arm.

I don't _know_ that it's a gun. But there's a reason there's no gang presence on the Boardwalk. And it's something I should be _aware_ of.

"Sit." Victoria points to a table jammed into one corner of shop, and I move as directed. Watch her breeze up to the counter as I work to tug my chair out as unobtrusively as possible. The wait is nerve-wracking, but when it's over I almost wish that it had lasted a little longer. She's already sliding a paper cup across to me, and I'm _still_ not sure what I'm going to say.

"...I don't really like coffee."

She palms her face, takes a deep breath, and shakes her head. "More for me, then." She takes the cup back, and considers it thoughtfully for a few seconds before setting it down next to her own. "You know, I'm starting to notice a pattern, here."

Yeah, she's not the only one. I sigh, force myself to relax a little. "I do something stupid, then spill my guts when you refuse to take 'no' for an answer?"

That earns me an actual smile. "Well hey, you actually _do_ have a brain. I was starting to wonder." I roll my eyes, and her smile grows. Holds, just for a second, before dropping. "Not sure I _like_ that that's a pattern, you know?"

I nod. She takes a drink, and watches me for a moment before leaning over the table and letting her voice drop. "So, let's skip the 'I told you so' part of this and get right to the fact that this guy had one of those bone-thingies."

Getting right into things. Okay then. "I'd teleported us up, trying to get loose. We were falling, fighting...and he pulled out a Charm."

"Like the ones you've been finding." I nod. "That _can't_ be coincidence."

"Probably not."

She leans back again, turns to look around the shop. "So what, he just decided to show it off or something?"

"He jammed it against my neck." I reach up to rub fitfully at the spot. I'd _thought_ he was just trying to hurt me, shake my concentration, but after what Amy said, I've had to consider something else. "He got my blood all over it, before I could get loose. Then he broke it, and vanished."

Victoria just looks at me, for several long moments. "You think he used it to teleport." When I nod, she takes a deep breath, lets it hiss out between her teeth. "And he was after your blood...fucking _trumps_." She picks up her coffee and waves it at me. "You're getting rid of those things."

" _No_ , I'm not."

She scowls, then winces as the lid pops off her cup, the stiff paper deformed in her grip. She's quick to set it down again, giving it a baleful look before turning back to me. "The hell you're not...Taylor, this guy was after _you_ , specifically. Probably because of those 'charms' you keep telling me are so great. For all we know, this was the whack job that booby-trapped that stupid _mask_ of yours...and even if he's not, how the hell do you think he found you today? Huh?"

"We weren't exactly being subtle, earlier…"

"So what, he just got lucky? No way. It's gotta be those things. He can track them or something…"

"Then he's had close to a month to find out where I live. Or to attack me _before_." I clench my fists under the table, doing my best to stay calm and...confident. "If he _can_ track them, then getting rid of them still doesn't actually help me."

"You-" She bites down whatever she was about to say, visibly composing herself. And then her brows furrow, and she leans forward again. "...there's something going on here."

I'm...pretty sure there is, yes. "That's what we're talking about, isn't it?"

"No, I don't mean what happened today…" She frowns, tapping the table. "You've been so set on keeping these things from the start. And whatever, they're useful. But you _didn't_ drop them the second somebody tried to _kill_ you for having them."

That isn't a road I want to have to go down right now. "Considering having them is what saved my life the first time that happened-" She opens her mouth, but now _I_ scowl, cutting her off before she can continue down that line of reasoning. "Look, this is already happening. I doubt that just dropping them now is going to stop this guy from showing up again at some point. _That's_ the problem that we're looking at now, right?"

"...yeah." She sighs again, head dropping into her hands...and then she scoffs, and tosses her head, slumping back in her chair to eye me again. "Yeah, I guess it is."

That...feels like a crisis nicely averted. Even if it does make me feel like shit. "So, can we focus on what we're going to do about it?" A pause, and I relax again, try to project my _sincerest_ wish to be done with this particular conversation. "Please?"

She nods, turning her attention to her coffee cup. Doesn't respond until she secures the lid again and manages to actually take a drink. "What _we're_ going to do, huh? I could talk to my parents about this, you know. Get the rest of my family in on things."

I'm honestly tempted for a moment. More backup...would be _great_. But it's probably not a good idea. "You remember what happened the last time we stumbled across something dangerous?"

" _Yes_. Friggin' Bakuda…"

"And you got _grounded_?"

"That was a curfew thing!"

I wait all of five seconds, and her indignant expression fades.

"Well, it was mostly a curfew thing." She grumbles, setting her coffee down again. "What about my cousins? I can convince them not to bring it up with _their_ parents, and a little extra help is better than none, right?"

It's...probably not _as_ bad an idea. "Maybe…"

"Great. So that covers the 'who'. Not sure _what_ we're gonna wind up doing, though."

That one might not be as difficult. He already found me once. Next time...he won't get another chance to surprise me. _Us_. "I'm already helping you keep an eye out for the Undersiders, right?" Victoria nods, and I shrug. "So...you just help me keep an eye out for _this_ guy."

She tilts her head, thinking that over for a second...and then she smirks, arching a brow at me. "You know what this means, right?" I'm...not sure I do. She chuckles, as I shake my head. "It _means_ that we both have...uh...a nemesis." The smirk turns into a frown. " _Nemeses_ , right?"

"That's...yes. 'Nemeses'."

"Awesome. We're nemeses buddies now."

"..." I sigh again, and shake my head. "Sounds great."

"Doesn't it?" She nods, and slides the second coffee cup over. "Now drink up."

"I don't _like_ coffee."

"Tough. Drink."

Ugh...I pull a face, and take a drink.

It's...not so bad, actually.

"'Don't like coffee', huh?"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

She's grinning, at this point, and I manage to hold a glare for all of ten seconds before letting out an undignified snort. and lifting my cup. She doesn't hesitate to tap it with her own, and take another drink.

I think that means we're good.


	20. Interlude: Dennis

Brockton Bay was kind of a shithole.

Now, that wasn't to say there weren't worse places to live (there were), or that it had always been that way (it hadn't). Hell, you could even ignore it most of the time, as long as you kept your head down, took a few precautions. Pretend that all the villains and gangs were still just background noise. Pretend that everything was normal.

Of course, it was a little harder to pretend things were normal when you had military checkpoints stopping up traffic through the Docks, or regular evacuations from the areas surrounding blast-sites in case there was some secondary Tinker-tech effect that could turn the nearest buildings into sludge, or something.

Nope. Couldn't really ignore that sort of thing. Which made it hard to figure why Arcadia waited two weeks after the start of the bombings to bother canceling classes.

Not that Dennis had been ready to complain about not having to go to school. No school meant no reason not to sleep in a couple extra hours. Because hey, it'd been a long _month_ , so there was nothing wrong with a little break.

Then he'd gotten up and realized that just because _school_ wasn't happening, there might be other large, controlling organizations jonesing for a little of his precious time. It really was one of the common sense things; the kind that you kicked yourself a few times for missing. But hey, you lived, you learned...you checked your email. That was just the way of the world, wasn't it?

Also a way of the world; running into impatient co-workers the second you walk in the door.

"What, were you watching the security feeds or something?"

"You're late." Chris didn't bother to answer, which meant he probably _had_ been. "Vista's on console, and I'm going out with Shadow Stalker."

Ouch. Dennis felt a lot of sympathy, in that moment. Patrols with Sophia were never fun. Still, he couldn't just let something like that go without _some_ kind of comment. "I dunno, man. She doesn't really seem like your type." He gestured vaguely with his helmet. "Also, kinda violent. That's usually a warning sign, you know?"

Chris pulled a face, and Dennis had to duck a half-hearted swipe. "That isn't a thought I needed. Just...go get suited up. Gallant's going out in twenty and he needs the backup."

Of course he did. "What, we don't get a Mover?"

"Should have gotten here earlier." A pause. "Can you move?"

"Right, sure." Dennis made way, Chris left, and it got really quiet in the Wards' HQ. Which was fine. Didn't seem like he'd be hanging around for long anyway.

Patrol with Gallant, with no Mover support.

"We're going to be doing so much walking."

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Walking was as time consuming as he'd expected. Being on a team with the littlest Shaker _had_ to have warped his perception, because it felt really weird just _walking_. Not being able to just step up onto a rooftop, or cross a city block in a couple of steps made the whole 'patrolling' thing sort of drag.

Not that Gallant seemed to mind. In fact, he was annoyingly unbothered by just how little progress they were making on their route. Even with Clockblocker thinking some _very_ mean things in his direction.

"This can't actually be productive."

That finally got a response, even if it was just a smug smirk. "Since when do _you_ care about whether something is productive or not?"

"Hey, I _love_ being productive." Clockblocker defended himself, slowing for a moment to look down the alleyway they were passing. "I try to be productive with the least amount of effort, yes. But it's productivity all the same."

"Uh-huh."

"So, I mean, putting in a ton of effort into something and _not_ seeing results is kinda the opposite of what I'm about."

"Maybe you should have gotten in earlier, then. You could've gone with Aegis, and I would have had Browbeat."

"What, you'd rather have the new guy along?"

"I don't think he'd complain nearly as much."

" _Ouch_."

"Now are you done?"

Clockblocker stopped to consider that with all due seriousness. "...maybe." Gallant turned to frown at him, and he shrugged defensively. "Look, what do you want from me here?" And it looked like they were back to walking. Or was it trudging? It seemed more like trudging, now that he thought about it.

Also, while he'd only managed to glance at their patrol route on the way out the door, he _was_ pretty sure that there weren't any alleyway detours. "What's up? You feeling something over here?"

"No...well, nothing that we can really do anything about, anyway." Gallant rolled his shoulders, his armor clicking along with the motion. "We're going up, here."

Up. Because that made a lot of sense. "Gonna scope things out, huh?" No response, but it wasn't really necessary, seeing as Gallant was already pulling down the fire-escape ladder. "Been working on your vertical jump, I see."

"Just get climbing?"

"Yeah, yeah." Climbing. Climbing was worse than trudging. "So, seriously, why are we going to the roof, exactly? Seeing as we'll just have to come back down?" Another _conspicuous_ lack of answering...he stopped, halfway up the second ladder. " _No_. Please tell me this isn't a cape-date with Glory Girl."

"Meeting up with her doesn't automatically make it-"

"Oh my God, it is. You brought me along on your cape-date." He started climbing again, intent on catching up so he could properly convey his irritation to his _idiot_ teammate. "What the hell, man?"

Gallant stopped, once he'd reached the next platform, turning to look down at him. "It's not a date. She asked for help."

"And what, you didn't figure you could just take a solo patrol off to do this? Had to invite me along?" For all that he _loved_ to joke about their weird, dysfunctional relationship-thing, the last thing he wanted was to actually be wrapped up in it. "Come on, I could be having a day off right now."

"You _like_ patrolling."

Clockblocker rolled his eyes as he pulled himself onto the platform, tilting his head from side to side to make it obvious even with his helmet. "Yeah, with the team." Well, most of the team. The...greater majority of the team. Not that he'd name any names. "I'm a little less enthusiastic about playing catch-up with Our Lady of Collateral Damage."

"It's not…" Gallant stalled. "Wait, what?"

"'Our Lady of Collateral Damage.'" He repeated, rolling his shoulders. "Kinda rolls off the tongue, right?"

"She's not Catholic."

"Details." He waved it off, brushing past Gallant to start making his way up again. Because as annoying as the situation was, he wasn't exactly in a position to demand they keep on track. "Come on then, loverboy. Don't want to keep her waiting, do you?"

Gallant's irritated grumbling was a very _rewarding_ sort of thing.

But then it was back to climbing. And more climbing. Climbing wasn't really a skill that he tended to think of as important, but he'd been wrong before. Maybe it was something to practice, at some point. Climbing drills. They could make a whole 'thing' out of it. Maybe some kind of ladder setup in the gym.

And there was Glory Girl. Looked like she'd been waiting for a little while, and also _not_ like she was paying attention. The fire-escape wasn't exactly _quiet_ , so that was a little confusing...nope, wait, no it wasn't. Those were headphones.

"Clock…"

"Shhh." He waved Gallant off without bothering to look back, and started to creep forward. It wasn't easy to sneak on gravel, but he did a decent job. Soon enough he was _very nearly_ in arms' reach; close enough that he could hear whatever it was she was listening to. Close enough that he had a few options with what to do. A basic jump scare could be funny. Freezing her, too, even if Gallant would complain. Maybe both? Both could be funny-

"What the hell are you doing?"

Clockblocker jumped, and spun around (reorienting to better face a potential threat, of course), only to come face to face with _holy crap what was that?_ His back hit something solid as he stumbled back ( _withdrew_ , tactically), and he had all of a second to wonder what it might be before Glory Girl's elbow caught the side of his head and sent him tumbling to the roof.

" _Ow_."

"Clockblocker…"

"Jesus Christ, what was that?"

"My doofus teammate making an idiot of himself."

It was so great to be appreciated...

"Gallant! We've been waiting for, like, half an hour."

"I should have called ahead-"

"Hold on, you invited _the Wards_?"

So _that_ was scary-mask-girl. She sounded friendly, didn't she?

"Hey, you agreed that we needed backup…"

"I thought you meant your _cousins_."

"Well, they were busy."

That was enough of that nonsense. Even with the way his head was spinning, he knew it was probably best to break it up before things got weird. "So assuming murderface over there isn't here to cause problems, can anybody help me up?" A pause, and he smirked. "My legs are kind of tingly. Is that a bad thing?"

"...I shoulda hit him harder."

" _She's beauty, she's grace, she'll punch you in the face_ …"

"Don't _tempt me_."

The sudden and overwhelming urge to _run the hell away_ chased off the next part of the joke, and he nearly froze his costume in response. But then Gallant was there and the feeling left. Just in time for him to be pulled to his feet and have to not fall over in front of everyone.

"Is he always like this?"

"Pretty much."

Back upright, and with a few seconds to make sure his balance was fine, he had a chance to get a better look at the stranger that had decided to crash the party. Although maybe she hadn't 'crashed' so much as...been there in the first place? And he'd managed to miss her standing there, on the empty rooftop. Somehow. "You know, I really didn't come here to play fourth wheel _and_ punching bag."

Glory Girl snorted. "You seem to be doing alright."

"Hey, Clock? A little professionalism, please?"

Okay, so Gallant was already starting to go mediator on them. Had to be a new record. "Hey, I think we can all agree that _most_ of us here are _completely_ professional." He grinned, tilting his head as he faced Glory Girl's new friend. "Am I right, hoody-girl?"

She didn't move. Just sort of...stood, and stared. It couldn't have been more than a couple seconds, but _jeeze_. "Oh yeah. Professional enough to completely freak out and take an elbow to the face."

A little stilted, but it was an honest to god _joke_. And (probably) not just because she was mad! He grinned, but made sure to _look_ properly affronted. "Okay, first of all, how dare you." Gallant's palm smacked into his helmet, but Clockblocker ignored it. "Second of all, only one smartass per patrol. It's in the union charter, okay?"

No hesitation. She just crossed her arms, the lenses of her mask catching the light. "What are you going to do? Break my legs?"

"Nah, we've got Vista for that."

Glory Girl cleared her throat, then, stepping between them. It was a pretty decent distraction. "Okay, guys? Can we get this show on the road?" She turned to hoody-girl and got a shrug. "Gallant? How long are you gonna be here?"

"About three hours." Gallant with a snappy answer, of course. "Can I ask what this is all about, now?"

He was a little curious, himself. Since this was, _apparently_ , not a cape-date...and, actually, Glory Girl was looking kind of cagey. That was new. "It's a long story. But basically? We going villain hunting."

Oh...right. They were going after actual villains. That was definitely something.

"Be vewy vewy quiet-"

Gallant shut him up with a _perfectly_ executed dope-slap. He would have laughed if it hadn't set his ears ringing again.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

"So…"

Mask-girl ("She's Crow." "I'm _not_ Crow.") tilted her head _just_ enough that he could tell he'd actually gotten her attention. "What?"

"Glory Girl said you can do more than teleport. So that means more powers, right?"

She snorted, but didn't stop walking. Balancing on the _edge_ of the building, because apparently that was just how she do. "I've got a few, yeah."

"So? What are they?"

She didn't respond right away, reaching out to grab his shoulder. There was a pressure, a moment of disconcerting _nothing_ , and then they were on the next building over. She didn't miss a step, of course, because why would she?

"I can see in the dark, for one." She tugged at her hood, looking down over the edge. "Control bugs and rodents with a little effort." A pause, as she turned to look at him in full. "And I can make rats."

"..." He'd heard of _stranger_ powers...powers that were _more strange_. Teleportation, night-vision, and _rats_ didn't exactly constitute a 'stranger' powerset. Stranger than most, though. Heh. He'd have to remember that one. "Seriously?"

"Maybe you'll get a chance to see later." A shrug. "Have the others spotted anything?"

He rolled his eyes, reaching up to tap the side of his helmet. "Nothing from Gallant yet. And we haven't been called away on anything, either, so it must just be an actual _quiet day_."

"Hard to believe."

"I know, right?" There were plenty of people talking about how crazy things had been lately, but it sure didn't seem like _enough_ sometimes. "I actually got to sleep in this morning. That hasn't happened in over a month, I swear."

"I definitely...know…"

When she wavered, his smile dropped. When she started to _tip_ over the edge, he didn't even think before reaching out to grab her arm and _stop_. Only instead of freezing in place, she _kept falling._ Which meant that he was pulled over after her. And then _they_ were falling, and his power hadn't worked, but there was _no time to panic_.

With the ground _right there_ , he squeezed his eyes shut and froze his suit.

The sudden stop _hurt_ , and he heard a cry of pain...or two? He wasn't sure which of them was hurting more, at the moment, but when he opened his eyes again, Not-Crow was hanging at an awkward angle, supported only by the frozen glove locked around her wrist.

"Hey!" He hadn't had the chance to do his usual thing before stopping his suit, so there wasn't as much room as he would have liked to catch his breath. He did his best, anyway. "Hey, are you okay!?"

"W-what…?"

Shit, she sounded pretty out of it. "Crap, okay…" Couldn't use his comm, and she didn't have one. Probably wouldn't have time to wait for the others to decide something was wrong and circle back. "Okay...hey, listen. You need to go back up to the roof." She looked up at him, that creepy mask making it really hard to tell just how lucid she might be. "Can you do that? Teleport yourself back to the roof? And hey, if you've got some kind of signal or something to get Glory Girl in on this, that'd be cool. I don't really want to take half an hour to make my way down from here."

"...huh?"

Dammit. "Just get back up to the roof, okay? Or, hey, you can go to the alley, too. I don't really care, at this point, but holy crap your hand is turning purple." The glove was cutting off circulation. That wasn't good. "You should go. And not fall again."

There was an agonizingly long moment of quiet before she nodded. "R-right."

She vanished, a cloud of dust swirling down to the alleyway below. Not _very_ far below, but still far enough that it was weird to just sort of hang there. But hey, at least one thing was taken care of.

The universe had a really sick sense of timing, because his suit chose that moment to unfreeze and drop him another few feet. He reapplied his power quickly enough, but the surprise of it _might_ have taken a couple years off his life. "This is ridiculous. Why have we never practiced this shit?"

He hadn't really been expecting an answer, which is why Glory Girl choosing that moment to speak up from behind him came as so a _wonderful_ surprise. "Probably because they assumed you were smart enough not to take a swan-dive off a building."

"Ffffffffff...udge." He was still short of breath, and surprises _weren't helping_. "If I could turn my head, I'd give you _such_ a dirty look right now."

"Yeah, well, my friend is freaking out upstairs, so I can't really bring myself to care too much." She grumbled. He heard, more than felt, as she slipped her arms under his, and when she spoke again it was from right beside his ear. "How long is this gonna take?"

"Dunno. The last one was really short, so maybe not long?" He shifted as much as he could to relieve some of that discomfort that came from being encased in a completely immobile bodysuit. "Where's loverboy gone?"

"He's keeping an eye on her. Also, _shut up_."

"Yeesh, okay…"

The awkward, quiet waiting was best not thought about, and the moment when his power had finally run its course was a relief, despite the pain in his shoulders as he was yanked up into the air. It didn't feel like more than a second before he was wavering on his own two feet again, Glory Girl off to worry over her bestest friend that nobody else had even met before today apparently.

 _She_ was propped up against one of those big AC units, Gallant living up to his namesake with the old 'comforting back rub' routine. Seemed like she was...better, maybe, but obviously there was still something up.

"Is it too soon to ask what's up with the whole 'falling off buildings' thing?"

Glory Girl shot him a _very_ unpleasant glare, that damn aura pressing all those nasty 'flight' buttons at once...he couldn't really focus on anything else until _after_ her attention had shifted again, and at that point he'd already missed...something, apparently, since Gallant was standing up and looking purposeful.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Not-Crow pulled herself up, wobbling for a moment before steadying again. "I can lead us there now."

"Alright then. Let's go."

Gallant didn't seem to be arguing. So it looked like they still had places to be.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Okay, so Glory Girl's friend was acting _weird_. Nobody seemed to be commenting on it, either, which was also weird. But hey, weird seemed to be the flavor of the month, so who cared, right?

"Down there."

"You sure?"

He didn't flinch away when she reached out to grab him, this time. Seemed she'd gotten grabby, along with everything else. And absent-minded, because Gallant just barely got a hand on her shoulder before she teleported them all...into the old factory that she'd led them to.

There was a B&E joke on the tip of his tongue when he realized that abandoned factories didn't usually have power, or work-lights hanging all over the place. The lights were _on_ , too, which meant that somebody was around that _needed_ light.

He looked to Gallant, got a slight head-shake, and allowed himself to relax. Just a bit. "This is definitely a hideout." Which meant they'd found _something_. "Is this the Undersiders? Or stabby guy?"

"Probably the second one." Glory Girl muttered. "Crow?"

"Yeah…"

She started forward, and when the others fell in behind her, so did he. Wasn't really much else he _could_ do at this point...though, curiosity may have played a part in it.

They'd appeared in a far corner of the main floor, from the looks of things. Didn't seem like there'd be anywhere else with enough room for all the old crates and pallets that had been stacked up...no, they weren't just stacked. Somebody had used them to close something off. That meant something long term. Which...well, it was a hide-out. So that made sense.

It took a little time, but Not-Crow eventually brought them to a gap wide enough to serve as way through. And then…

Well, it was kind of a mess. Tables covered in scattered tools and scrap metal. Trash and dirty clothes all over the floor. The mattress jammed into the corner of the space was just more confirmation that somebody had made themselves at home.

"This guy's a Tinker."

Which explained all the crap on the tables. Clockblocker glanced over to see Gallant standing at one of the tables, holding what looked like a ski boot...there was a sharp _crack_ , and everyone jumped. Gallant included, which was understandable since it was the boot in his hands that had done...whatever it was. It looked like the back half had snapped out of place.

"...we're not about to explode, right?"

Gallant shot him a look, but shook his head. "Looks like it's spring-loaded." He set the whole thing down with obvious care. "Should probably leave the unknown Tinker-tech alone."

"Gee, you think?"

"Crow?"

He glanced over, saw Glory Girl hovering over her friend, who was hovering in front of...a mirror? Actually, it was a pretty _nice_ mirror. Not really something you'd expect to see in a Tinker villain's workshop...oh, shit.

"Guys, we're standing in a Tinker's workshop."

Gallant stiffened, but it was Glory Girl that actually responded. "A little late to worry about that, don't you think?" She glanced back. "Come take a look at this."

Because _that_ wasn't ominous at all. Still, she was right in that it was way too late to worry about tripping any defenses. Besides which...nothing ventured, nothing gained. They'd already ventured a _lot_ in the past couple of hours. So he could walk over and look at a mirror, no big deal…

"...huh."

"So I'm not the only one seeing that?"

"Definitely not."

Gallant drifted over, and he made room for him to get a good look, too.

"Well...that's...different?"

Definitely different. Nice and creepy, with the way it _wasn't_ reflecting them. The factory area _behind_ them reflected just fine, of course. Or parts of it did. There were big chunks of it that were straight up _missing_ , leaving nothing but bright light and lots of _blue_ in the empty spaces.

The stuff was only missing in the reflection, at least. Or it _seemed_ that way when he turned to check. So...the world hadn't gone all weird, and creepy Tinker mirror was now a thing he could say he'd seen. Awesome.

"Hey guys? I vote we get out of the creepy lair and call in the big boys. What do you say? All in favor?"

"Not happening."

"Hey, listen, GG, I appreciate that you and your family have this sorta love-hate thing going on with us government-types, but this is sort of a _thing_ that's happening, and I'd like to pass it off on them now."

Gallant cleared his throat and shot him a warning look, before shaking his head. "He's right. If this is the guy you're looking for, then we've found him. We should call it in."

"What, so they can pat us on the head and send us back to the kiddy-table? 'Hey, good job, now let the grown-ups handle it'? Hell no…"

"We're not exactly little kids. They're not going to treat us like it…"

Clockblocker snorted, and Glory Girl rolled her eyes. "My mom grounded me a couple weeks ago for being out after _curfew_."

"You said it was because you almost got blown up."

"Like _that's_ never happened before…"

And hey, there was the bickering. He'd been wondering where that went. Still, better to step in before they got on a roll. "Guys? A little focus, please?" And with that, _he_ was sounding like the voice of reason. What was the world coming to? "Is your friend here normally this spacey?" Because she was still staring at the mirror, and it was starting to worry him.

"Shit." Glory Girl leaned in waving her hand in front of Not-Crow's face. "It's happened a couple of times. She'll snap out of it. Or I'll snap her out of it…" She chewed her lip, turning to look into the mirror. "Seems like freaky shit just follows her around."

Alright, there were _so_ many signs that something was going on that nobody was talking about. Which was fine. Seriously. Who cared. "Are we going to call this in or what?"

The fact that Gallant didn't answer meant he was probably going to cave. Par for the course, really…

"Hey, did you see that?"

 _Okay_ , time to move away from the creepy mirror. "Didn't see anything, let's go."

"No, seriously, there's something out there... _in_ there. Whatever. Look, it's just past the wall."

"Gallant, please tell crazies one and two we're leaving."

"It's so _bright_ …"

"Don't look." He flinched away from Not-Crow as she finally broke her silence. It looked like _she_ agreed with him, at least, reaching out to pull Glory Girl away, and give Gallant a shove when he hesitated. Clockblocker very studiously avoided looking back once he'd turned away. "I'm going to find what he did with my blood, and then we're leaving."

"Finally, someone sensible." Leaving sounded like a good...plan. "I'm sorry, did you say _blood_?"

"Told you he stabbed her with a giant needle." Glory Girl shook her head, scowling at nothing in particular. "Just...look around for anything that looks like a test tube or something, I don't-"

"I've got it."

He hadn't even seen her go looking for it, but. yep, that was a big, glass thing. Yep, it had blood in it. "Yay, go team. _Can we leave now_?" Because really, this was at least three kinds of crazy. Maybe four. And he really just wanted to get back to the HQ so he could punch Gallant for dragging him along. " _Please_."

When Not-Crow offered her hand, he didn't hesitate to take it. There wasn't any conversation, when they appeared outside again; Glory Girl muttered something vague about taking Gallant, and then they were flying off, which just meant more teleporting for him.

He didn't realize just how shaken up he'd felt, until they'd made it back to their patrol route. Didn't realize until after some muttered 'goodbye's that that unsettling _feeling_ hadn't followed him out of the factory.

And when Gallant made him promise not to take things up the chain, he agreed, readily, without thinking anything of it.

They hadn't seEn anything worth reporting, anyway.

Definitely not…


	21. Chapter 16

The notebook is a mess of unconnected thoughts. There are notes on temperatures, measurements, sketches of...machines? 'Devices'? It's hard to tell _what_ most of them are even with the rambling, barely legible notes crammed into every margin. Then there's the _pages_ of teeth, limbs, and scratched-out eyes. ' _The whispers'_ , apparently...seems like this guy couldn't go more than a few lines without mentioning them in some way.

Nothing I knew about him before made me think he was particularly stable, but this…? This is _nuts_.

I've gone through it at least ten times in the past day and a half, and I still don't _understand_. There isn't enough here to reach any conclusions; there are hints, bits and pieces, but nothing here is complete.

Maybe I should have stayed. Searched the place, _really_ searched it. Hell, I had others with me. Maybe we could have set a trap. Put ourselves in a position where we could actually _catch_ the guy. Yeah, either that or he would have turned the tables on us. Done something weird, like...breaking the mirror and sending us all into the Void, or stabbing Clockblocker and using the blood to...do...something.

...I've been looking at this damn notebook for way too long, and I'm definitely not finding any magical 'solutions' to the problem that this guy presents. So I need to change tack. Work things from a different angle. Or figure out what sort of angle I _can_ work. Or... _something_.

My stomach growls. I groan and hunch over my desk, eying the notebook irritably before shoving it aside. _Maybe_ what I need is to go get some lunch. Thinking on an empty stomach isn't helping anything.

I grab one of the journals _I'd_ been keeping, on the way out. Because why not make it a working lunch?

It doesn't take me very long to cobble together a meal with whatever leftovers are in the fridge. And the distraction is welcome, even if it makes me feel...I don't know. Like I'm stalling out. Like I've lost my momentum. It's a feeling that makes it harder than I'd like to actually pick up my pen and open up my journal.

The Psycho-Tinker is my main problem right now; everything else seems to be stemming from that, along with the general _issues_ cropping up in the city these days. There isn't much I can do about _most_ of that, and I really don't know what I can do about him. So I need to find something that works. I need...more information? It'd be nice, but I'm not sure how to get it, besides going back to dig for more clues. Probably not a good idea, given how quickly this guy has pulled up stakes the last few times I took something from him…

Shit. I've been _stealing_ from the crazy-man. No wonder he's after me.

Nothing for _that_ now. I really need to focus.

What do I know? That's a good place to start. Actually, that's a _great_ place to start. Just work the problem out on paper instead of trying to juggle it all in my head. It's not like it's going to _hurt_.

Alright, so, starting simple. According to Gallant, and backed up by what I've seen, this guy is a Tinker. He can make things like my mask, and he was working on some kind of boots...no, that's probably not important. He's a Tinker. He can make things that boost powers...no. Not _powers_ , in general. At least, not as far as I know. The Charms boost _my_ powers. That, and the fact that he somehow made a mirror into some kind of... _portal_ , something that let me, and others, to see the Void, means the Outsider is deeply involved in all of this.

The Void portal, the Charms, the Runes, the Shrine. My Mark, my powers...and his too? The Outsider has been an obvious influence. Did he go to this guy too? I got _several_ powers from him, so who's to say this Tinker is only a _Tinker_?

No, that's too much speculation. No way to confirm anything there. That still leaves the Outsider as a big factor. Unfortunately that's not something I can really explore; he doesn't seem like he's particularly easy to reach. He's only ever contacted _me_ , and I wouldn't know where to start looking for him. Can't ask him what the story is, can't ask him why…

Ugh. I go back up to where I'd put 'The Outsider' on my List Of Things To Worry About, and put a nice big question mark next to it.

Next concern. My blood. The vial I'd stolen back was _big_ , but barely half full. I have this sinking feeling that wasn't always the case. So while I'd disposed of what was left, that meant he'd used it for _something_. Between the potential bullshit Tinkertech and what he'd done with that Bone Charm he'd had, that wasn't a good thing at all. And related to that...he'd wanted to know why 'they worked for me'. Assuming he meant the Charms...they didn't work when he used them? That might be a mark against the Outsider being the source of his powers, if that's the reason they _do_ work.

Why _make_ them, though? It's obvious that they _do_ have some kind of effect, but if he can't actually use them, then there's no _reason_ for him to...keep trying. Right. Duh. He's _trying_ to make them work. He _can_ make them work, maybe, with my blood…

I'm thinking in circles again. I make a note of that, and I'll come back to it later.

What else…? The Void? Definitely something weird going on, there. I remember...looking into that mirror was _frightening_. The fact that it wasn't reflecting _us_ wasn't so bad, that wasn't anything that you wouldn't see looking at a...recording of a room, or something. Even with the whole 'everything is broken and blue' thing it had going on.

But there _had_ been a reflection. I knew that. I'm not sure how, but I...knew, and I knew that we had to look away. I'd been _afraid_ , when Victoria had kept looking. That certainty, that fear….those aren't good things, obviously, but it didn't really occur to me until now. _Why_ was I so afraid? Why am I so sure that it was reflecting something? I didn't see anything behind me…

I set down my pen, slowly, frown at my journal as I poke my food around my plate. I didn't see anything behind me. It's a nagging sort of thought. I didn't see anything _behind me_.

A shiver goes down my spine, and I glance over my shoulder without thinking. Nothing there. Of _course_ there's nothing there...now I just feel stupid. This stuff, this _stress_ , is obviously getting to me. _Obviously_.

Still, I make a note of it. 'Paranoia inducing mirror' might be something _not_ to discount.

Looking at my little 'list' doesn't really stir any grand inspiration. No earth-shaking realizations, no puzzle-pieces falling together. Probably not surprising, given they don't even take up a whole page. It's a frustrating reminder of just how little I actually know. Too excited about having super-powers to bother _wondering_ …

I've lost my appetite.

What's left of my lunch goes back in the fridge. My journal goes in my desk upstairs, along with the notebook and the pair of Runes that I still haven't done more than look at. Then I'm digging out my mask, and shrugging into my much-abused sweatshirt. All I need is a little change in scenery. Sometimes the best way to work something out is to just stop thinking about it for a little while.

Should be easy enough, right?

* * *

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* * *

Two hours later, I'm feeling significantly more productive. Tracking the _fourth_ group of Empire 'soldiers' trying to sneak through the military checkpoints into the Docks, after leaving the first three neatly trussed up...it should probably concern me more that this is my new idea of entertainment. But hey, I'm doing some good, getting some practice in on my baton-skills, and I've gotten my mind off _troublesome things_. That's a win.

Still, probably best to take a break after this group. 'Quit while I'm ahead', and all. I haven't really had to _exert_ myself yet, but I can't really afford to be caught off-guard because I decided to waste all my energy on _mooks_.

I keep ahead of them until they creep around a corner. A moment later, I'm walking _just_ behind them, stepping carefully to avoid any of the trash scattered on the pavement.

"I'm telling you, they'll have it _fenced off_. No way they're gonna go through all the trouble setting up a checkpoint and then leave an open alleyway so any dumbass can get around it."

"That's why one of our guys is gonna open up the back door of this store for us. Have you even been _pretending_ to listen to me?"

"Hey, you never said anything about having another guy ready to help. That's on _you_ …"

"How about the both of you shut up and focus? Kaiser wants the Docks secured before tonight, so we need to fucking _get to it_. Personally, I don't care _how_ we get in, as long as we do."

Now that's _very_ interesting. Troubling, too. Kaiser's making a push on the Docks? Why now, with the National Guard and _Bakuda_ still in play? I frown as I pull out my baton, weighing it thoughtfully as I consider what that could mean…

A shrill ringing breaks the near-silence, and the four in front of me jump, even as I freeze.

"God _dammit_ , Mark, what'd I fucking tell you? Mute your goddamn phone!"

"Hey, it's not me! I didn't even _bring_ my phone."

I fight the urge to bash my head into the nearest wall as _my_ phone continues to ring, extending the baton with a sharp flick just as one of the guys actually bothers to turn around. Being the closest of the bunch, he drops first, a sharp strike to the side of his leg sending him to his knees with a cry of pain. My _much_ more careful back-swing catches him across the side of his head, and he hits the ground.

"Oh, _shit_ -" Mook #2 takes a solid hit on the outside of his hip, cursing again and falling on his ass as he tries and fails to avoid it. Down but not out.

The next guy is quicker on the draw, and _wow_ this is the worst time for me to think about puns, because he's pointing a gun at me. I move-

-closer, off to the side, giving me enough time to draw back and aim a downward strike across his wrist. The gun drops, but I don't bother feeling too relieved, focusing instead on shoving him back against a nearby dumpster and-

-putting myself behind the fourth guy. He has a gun too, and if I'd given him another few seconds, he probably would have shot me. Or shot _at_ me. Maybe he'd have missed, or it wouldn't have been fatal? Because if he'd actually been about to _kill_ me, I would have known…

 _Shit_. I swing my baton, wince as the impact only _just_ deflects his wild swing. The sting against my palm, the pain in my wrist and ache in my fingers, reminds me that yes, I've done this a few times tonight, and _yes_ , I should be paying attention to the fight.

Head and face aren't great, ribs are iffy, gun's in play. I aim for his shoulder, because I've really got to make sure he isn't going to shoot me...and then the idiot tries to duck, and the baton cracks against his jaw. _Cracks_ , because that was definitely something breaking. His cry of pain is _alarmingly_ slurred as he stumbles back...and the gun comes up again.

I step to the side, then forward, then down, force him to try and track me...the gun goes off, sharp, _loud_. My ears ring as I hit the inside of his elbow, the gun slipping from nerveless fingers even as I drive my shoulder into his chest. He falls, and immediately starts dragging himself backwards to press against the alley wall. Going to assume he's down…

#2 is back up, at his point. #3 is crouched down, going for his gun again. I consider them both, take a deep breath, and-

-appear behind #3 before he can stand. I grab the back of his shirt, plant my foot against the dumpster, and _push_ us both forward as hard as I can. We overbalance, fall, and I shove away from him-

-before dropping a couple of feet to the ground, only _just_ avoiding an embarrassing spill. The Empire mooks aren't quite so lucky; between his forward momentum and the height I gave us when I teleported, #3 hit his buddy in what was basically a flying tackle, sending them both to the pavement in a tangled heap. At least one of them is unconscious, though I'm not sure which.

That leaves...none of them, actually. Other than the guy with the rapidly swelling face...and the blood dribbling out of his mouth. Shit, okay.

My phone starts ringing again, but I ignore it for the moment, move to the first guy I'd hit. He seems...mostly aware, still, and relatively unhurt. His eyes widen as he sees me approach, and he tries to scramble away. It's...annoying.

"Hey." He curses, as I appear and crouch in front of him, the weighted end of my baton bumping up under his chin. "You have a phone?"

"The _fuck_ …?"

I give the side of his face a tap, and he hisses, falling over as he tries to duck away. "Do you have. A phone?"

He grits his teeth, glaring up at me...nods.

"Great. So call an ambulance for your buddy over there. Pretty sure he broke his jaw."

His eyes dart over to the man in question, and I take it as an opportunity to hit the rooftops again. To breathe, and let the buzzing energy dissipate a bit…

My phone rings. I almost tear the pocket off my sweater trying to get it out to answer. " _What_?"

"Whoa, wow. Okay. Hello to you too, Miss Grump." I can almost _feel_ her giving me a 'look'. "What's got _you_ so worked up?"

I almost say 'You', before taking another breath and reminding myself that _I'm_ the one that didn't silence her phone before sneaking up on armed criminals. Victoria's just calling me. It's not her fault her timing sucks. "The Empire."

"Hmph. I'll allow it." There's a soft _whuff_ , a creak. "What're those assholes up to now?"

"Trying to get into the Docks." I gesture vaguely with my baton, despite the fact that she can't see me. "From what I heard, Kaiser's making some kind of move."

" _Shit_. It never ends, does it?" She heaves a sigh. "One group goes down, the rest of them just have room to grow."

"Yeah…" Wait. "What do you mean 'when one goes down'?"

"The ABB." A pause, another creak. "Wait, you haven't heard? Seriously?"

"Heard _what_?"

"Don't you watch the news? No, don't answer that. And actually, this is fine." More movement. "You should come over and let me tell you all about how the ABB isn't gonna be a problem anymore. Also, I have a surprise for you."

The ABB... _not_ a problem? "That's...both interesting and ominous." I consider, sigh, and move to the edge of the roof. "I'll be there in a bit."

" _Awesome_. Bring your stuff. If you don't already have it, I mean."

"Why wouldn't I-?" And she hung up.

I put my phone away, take a few moments to collapse my baton, and take a moment to stretch out a bit of the stiffness already threatening to settle in. It looks like I'll be paying the Dallon household another visit.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

She's waiting at her window, so I don't bother with the door. But I've barely gotten into her room before she's shoving a bundle of fabric into my arms.

"Here. You know where the bathroom is, right?"

I do, but… "What?"

"Go change, then come back in here."

And now I'm in the hallway. I'm...not sure how? Did I teleport again? Did _Victoria_ teleport me? Probably not. "...change?"

Apparently the fabric is...clothes? I try to get an idea of just what it is I'm holding as I make my way into the bathroom, absently locking the door behind me. A couple pieces are obviously for _under_ whatever it is, but the gloves and weird socks are throwing me...off. _Oh_.

It's a body-suit. Like...for a costume.

"I guess it's done, then." Holy crap, okay...so, I need to change. I can do that.

It takes a little bit for me to strip down, then to figure out just how to best get _into_ the thing. It's very... _snug_ , and the zipper is apparently in the back, which makes very little sense to me. I manage though. And realize, when I do, that I needed to put on the socks and gloves _first_. So that's an adventure and a half...but then I've got it all on properly, and I can take a little time to...well, not really admire it, actually. It's...much more form-fitting than I probably would have chosen. Not to mention, well...completely blank? Just a flat, dark gray.

So it's probably not everything. Obviously.

I pull my mask back on, tug at the strange, high collar, and gathered up my clothes...I'll give the suit one thing. It's not nearly as restrictive as I might have imagined. I guess we did make a big deal about how I needed to be able to move in whatever I wound up getting, but it's still good to know someone actually paid attention.

It's an awkward sort of shuffle back to Victoria's room, and I wind up enhancing my vision just to make sure nobody is about to stumble across me.

Nobody does. I slip back into her room without any trouble, hovering awkwardly by the door as Victoria undoes the latches on a hard-shelled suitcase sitting on her bed. She turns a bright grin on me, then, turning the case around. "Just toss your stuff in the corner over there."

Right. I move to drop my things in what looks like a recently cleared space, turn again, and nearly jump out of my skin when I see Victoria hovering right in front of me. " _Shit_ …"

She smirks, and then all I can see is yellow as she presses... _something_ against my mask. Some _things_. Yellow…

"Are these _post-it notes_?"

"Would you prefer duct-tape?" A hand grips my shoulder, and I'm steered back toward the middle of the room. "No peeking."

"Are you serious right now?"

" _Super_ serious. You should get to see the whole picture, the first time you put this thing on."

I fight the urge to fidget, wind up picking at the spot where the glove meet my sleeve. Whatever this stuff is, it's pretty elastic… "This is _my_ costume, right?"

"Mmhm."

"Well how am I supposed to put it _on_ if you're not going to let me _see_ it?"

The silence is not reassuring in the least.

And I think it goes without saying that getting dressed with your eyes covered isn't easy. Dressing in multiple, interlocking layers is another added challenge. Having someone dead-set on _helping you dress yourself_...

Honestly, the whole thing is ridiculous. And _awkward_. But after about ten minutes of blind struggling we're not ever going to talk about, _ever_ again...everything is strapped, secured, and settled comfortably, and Victoria is pulling a hood up over my head.

"Okay, I think that's everything." Hands settle on my shoulders, turn me around, and push me forward a few steps. "Now _that's_ a costume."

I guess that's my cue, then. I take a deep breath, roll my shoulders just to feel everything shift. And then I reach up, pull off the post-its...and blink at the unfamiliar figure in the mirror.

My first thought is that _wow_ , I actually look like a Cape. The mask had gone a long way in that, and the bodysuit had been...well, cape- _like_. But I'd been running around in street clothes for the better part of two months. This...it's not brightly colored spandex or Tinker armor, but it'd be hard to mistake it for 'normal'.

The coat is, of course, the first thing anyone's going to notice. Charcoal gray, it's something like an old military coat, I guess? Long enough that the hem brushes my knees, belted at my waist, open in the front with a wide flap folded out to my left and a row of silvery buttons up my right side and shoulder. The heavy, folded cuffs are strangely stiff, and as I turn my head to get a better look at the close-fitted hood, I realize there's _definitely_ something strange about it. Other than the fact that it's tall enough to brush my jaw.

No, it's more than just the collar. It's the way the whole coat feels. Something about the way it... _sits_ across my shoulders."It's armored?" That must be it. I remember her fussing with it until something had _clicked_. "Seriously?"

"Not much. Just enough to make taking a hit a little easier." Victoria peers over my shoulder. "You've got some stab-proofing, but you're still barely bullet resistant. And that's really only as far as your chest goes."

"Right." There had been a bit of shifting and strapping that was probably a vest...and, speaking of vests. "I don't remember putting all of _this_ on." 'This' referring to the vest...the non-bullet-proof vest. Suit vest? It's _dressy_ , black, all accented with silver and settled over a heavy, gray shirt. Not the kind of thing that you just _slip_ on, unless… "It's all one piece."

Victoria's grinning, at this point. "Yup. All the fancy-shmancy without all the fuss. Makes the armor a lot less obvious, huh?"

I guess it does...I turn, tilt my head, and tug at the leather gloves that cover the bodysuit's set. It looks...appropriately dramatic. "Huh…"

"Oh, yeah, also." I try not to flinch as Victoria reaches around me to tug at the flap on the front of the coat. "Just pull this up like so…" I blink, and watch as she closes the coat up; the buttons _aren't_ buttons. Probably magnets, actually. The outward facing side of the flap has its own 'buttons' (matte black, rather than silver), so magnets make sense...I tilt my head back as Victoria tugs at my collar, something inside it shifting until it's 'buttoned' up, too, without actually closing any further than it already had.

Not nearly as ornate, like this. Which is the point, maybe? Although…it kind of looks like…

"I look like a mad scientist."

"Hey, _you_ picked the mask. Take it up with the designer if you have a problem." Victoria just keeps smirking at me. "There's a couple belts for your batons and whatever other gear you might wind up picking up, but...yeah, overall? What do you think?"

What do I think? "I think...that it's _amazing_." It isn't very 'heroic', maybe, but that's fine. Actions speak louder than appearances anyway. Right now...right now, I'm not sure _what_ to think. Beyond 'wow'. "Guess we can thank the Undersiders for _something_."

"Oh, I can't wait to _thank_ them personally."

Right. Best to steer away from that a bit. I turn, waver slightly in my unfamiliar footwear. I've never really worn anything like them, and obviously I'll need to adjust...but I guess as far as knee-high leather boots _go_ , they're not so bad? A few more steps, a turn to walk back, and I decide I've got nothing to worry about.

"So." I push the hood back enough to pull my mask off, take a second to comb my hair back into some semblance of order. "Belts?"

"Right." She nods, lifting into the air for a moment as she scans the room. "I...just had them. Hold on."

I shrug, and leave her to the searching as I head over to the corner with the rest of my clothes to retrieve the Bone Charms I'd been wearing.

Victoria doesn't look very happy about that, when she finally finds what _she_ was looking for. The silence sort of latches on, and I try to ignore it as I thread the Charms on the narrower of the two belts.

"I'm not saying anything, you know."

Well, not until now, anyway. "I noticed."

"Now hurry up and get acclimated." She turns, picking up a bundle of bright white from her bed before brushing past me on her way to the door. "We've got a party to get ready for."

I nod, absently, pulling my coat open again...those magnets are pretty strong. That could come in handy later…

…

"Party?"

She's gone. I try not to panic.

"Victoria? What party!?"


	22. Chapter 17

"Alright, look, as funny as it is watching you freak out...I'll admit that calling it a 'party' might be stretching things a little bit." I roll my eyes, and don't bother responding. Victoria doesn't seem too bothered by my silence, because she picks up again without hesitation. "I mean, there'll be music, and probably food? But mostly it's gonna be a bunch of city officials and VIPs. Classic fundraiser."

"So a bunch of Brockton's elite celebrating the ABB takedown." I clarify, letting my head drop back against the wall. "Which you still haven't told me anything about."

"Oh, don't be grumpy." I can _hear_ her pouting at me. "You should be getting excited! Maybe start working on some cool poses now that you've got a real costume."

There's a memory, there. Standing in front of a mirror in a black towel-cape. Playing Alexandria with my best friend in the world.

I close my eyes, and try not to think about it. "I don't think there's enough room in that mirror of yours for two."

"Well, you're not wrong." A zipper pull, the sound of shifting cloth. "Alright, so...the ABB. There was apparently a whole big... _thing_ , last night. A bunch of villains hit one of their safe-houses, wrecked the place. It drew a lot of attention, so the PRT and Protectorate made their move...hmm. Hey, I need a second opinion."

Right. I push away from the wall, nudge the bathroom door open a bit further to make sure she's fully _dressed_ this time. She is. That's a relief. "With?"

"I still really like this dress, no problems there... _but_." She turns to face me. "Hair down?" A pause, as she gathers her hair up into a rough approximation of...something. "Or up?"

"Um." I'm no slouch when it comes to hair _care_ , but style…? "Up?"

She eyes me for a second, turns back to the mirror, and groans in disgust. "Why exactly am I asking you?"

"It's so good to know you value my opinions."

"Of course I do. Even when they're not very helpful. But it's okay, because I've got enough fashion-sense for the both of us." She grins at me, then drops her hands and shakes her hair out again. "Updos are annoying anyway. I'll wear it down." A pause. "Where was I?"

It takes me a second to actually remember. "The Protectorate made a move."

"Right, right." She picks up a hairbrush, waving it in my direction as she continues. "Armsmaster led a group through the Trainyard, took down Lung _again_. The PRT had troopers out and about with the Wards, and _they_ were the ones who found Bakuda."

Bakuda and the Wards…? "So they caught her?"

"Vista and Clockblocker did, while the rest of the team took care of her security." She nods, her focus entirely on the mirror as she works the brush through her hair. "Which is awesome, you know? I mean, Clockblocker's going to be _impossible_ , but Vista totally deserves a big win."

Vista and Clockblocker took down Bakuda. That's...I _dreamed_ that. Over a week ago. I swallow, doing my best to ignore the way the Mark on my hand is itching. That much, I know, is just in my head. The rest…? "What'd they do about the bomb?"

"Kept it frozen and isolated until the Tinkers could get their hands on...it?" I wince at her curious look, once more very glad that my mask is so concealing. "I thought you said you didn't know what happened?"

"...this is Bakuda we're talking about. Why wouldn't there be a bomb?"

I try to pass it off as a joke. I'm not entirely sure she buys it, but she doesn't _question_ it, at least. After a second, she even smiles. "Yeah, that's way more true than I'm comfortable with." She sets the hairbrush down, turns her attention back to the mirror. "So the ABB's busted. And, _apparently_ , the Mayor didn't want to wait to pounce on that particular bit of good news. So celebratory fundraiser, here we are."

This is good. Moving past the fact that apparently I dreamed about something that hadn't happened yet. I force myself to relax, lean back against the doorframe. "Okay, so I guess that makes some kind of sense." It doesn't, really. At least, not to me. "How does that lead to _me_ , going to the celebratory fundraiser?"

"Would you believe I immediately thought to invite my least stuck-up Cape friend to a fun, public event so she could show off her shiny new costume?" I very _purposefully_ don't respond. She pretends not to notice until after she's retrieved an array of makeup products from a drawer and laid them out on the counter. "Oh, come on, not even a little bit?"

"I seem to be your favorite last choice lately." She looks pained, for a moment. I really didn't mean that to sound as sharp as it did, so I tug my hood back and pull my mask off. Offer the best smile I can. "Guess it's my own fault for always picking up the phone."

She relaxes, and sighs. "Yeah. Sorry...look, you really were up on the list, this time? It's just...well, everyone else being busy is just because of everything that's been happening, you know?" Another moment of silence. "Basically, I was going to go with Dean. My boyfriend?"

"You've mentioned him."

"Right, well, he's usually great. I mean, for the most part. But he just...his bosses are ridiculously strict, and he _always_ folds when they go after him. So when they say that they decided he doesn't get a night off like they'd told him…"

This is starting to sound more like relationship troubles than a simple explanation. Which isn't something I'm really equipped to deal with at the moment, so...moving on. "Why go at all, then?"

"Well, first, because it _is_ a perfect opportunity to break in your new threads." She smirks, leaning in closer to the mirror, examining her reflection. "But also, Dean spent like 700 dollars on our tickets, so it'd be kind of a waste _not_ to go."

Those aren't actually bad reasons. I shake my head, and don't bother trying to keep the incredulous smile off my face. "When you put it that way, how could I refuse?"

"That's the spirit."

And that's the end of that.

xxxxxxxxxx

Per Victoria's _repeated_ instructions, I teleport us both down to ground-level half a block from the entrance to the Forsberg Gallery. Which, I will note, remains one of my least favorite buildings in Brockton Bay. Maybe it's just that I've been traveling through downtown a lot more lately, so I've been seeing it more often, but it just _bugs_ me. All reflective, tempered glass and bright, colored lights...I'm sure that they meant to make it as sleek and 'post modern' as possible.

They definitely succeeded in making every _other_ building on the block look shoddy in comparison. Which...I don't think was their intent? But it's something somebody should have considered before signing off on the whole thing.

Victoria seems a little more impressed with it, of course. I'm a little jealous of how completely at ease she seems; she has absolutely no concerns about dragging me through the doors and into the small gathering of well-dressed men and women in the lobby. Me, I have trouble standing there and trying to ignore the staring, as she hands the invitations over to a man at a podium just inside the door.

It's not actually the staring that's getting to me, either. It's the fact that I can't _feel_ any of it. Being in the middle of a crowd with an ability that makes me constantly aware of who can see me didn't particularly appeal, so I left the Bone Charms back at Victoria's place. I still think it was the right decision, feeling a dozen sets of eyes on me at all times wouldn't have been any better, but...it's surprising how unsettling it is to know people are watching me without _knowing_ that people are watching me.

And then we're standing in the elevator. Victoria is smirking at me. There's a man in a tuxedo pretending he's not nervously glancing my way every few seconds.

Here I thought I wasn't going to enjoy myself.

The elevator stops. Top floor, everyone out.

"C'mon." Victoria flicks the beak of my mask as she slips out of the elevator. "The Wards are around here somewhere. We can swap stories about kicking ABB ass."

I look around at the milling crowds, the well-dressed wait-staff...the PRT troopers positioned around the room. Kind of hard to miss those…

"Sounds like a plan." Better than mingling with a bunch of strangers. Sort of. It's not like I've had the opportunity to make friends with the Wards, either, but...well, I can see Gallant, now, so that's at least one person I've met. "Over there?"

Victoria lifts into the air for a brief moment, which, of course, just draws more attention to us. And with everyone watching, I can't do anything except stand there and wait for her to set down on the floor again. "Yeah, that's them." And then she's moving, and all I can really do is trail after her.

Clockblocker stands up as we make our approach, acting out _something_ for the group of teenagers gathered by their table; it's surprisingly difficult to make out what he's saying over the chatter of a dozen nearby conversations. Gallant doesn't seem particularly impressed with him, judging by the way he's just _standing_ there.

Vista, though, is the only one to actually spot us. She looks startled, just for a moment, before Victoria glides ahead the last few feet. I feel a moment of acute empathy at her long-suffering sigh.

"Seems like everyone's having fun over here, huh?"

Clockblocker huffs as he loses his crowd, facing us with arms crossed. "I'm afraid there's no time for fun, citizen. _Justice_ is serious business. As is our duty to inform the public of...said justice. And the, uh...manner in which it was carried out."

A moment of silence, before Gallant clears his throat. "Glory Girl, Crow. Good to see you both."

"No no no, it's _Not-_ Crow. You gotta remember the 'Not' part, right?" Clockblocker's grin is obvious in his voice, as he motions my way. I take a moment to decide whether he's mocking me or not. When the moment stretches on and I still can't find anything to say, I settle for an acknowledging nod. "Rrright. Also, you're looking very snappy today. Good work on that."

Vista perks a bit, leaning forward in her seat. "That's a new costume?" I nod again. "You've really got the look down, huh?"

"I guess so." I really didn't really know what to expect from it, but it _did_ come together pretty well. "I'm just glad Glory Girl-"

She raps her knuckles on the side of my head with a chiding frown. " _Victoria_."

Right, out of costume. "I'm just glad that _Victoria_ …" I look at her, she nods in approval, and I'm free to focus on Vista again. "...was willing to help me."

"I really am amazing."

"Yeah, yeah, everyone's great, snappy banter...guys, I was in the middle of a story here."

"Your version of the story, maybe." Vista scoffs. "I don't remember navigating any _laser grids_ inside the warehouse."

"That's because you were working to disarm the shark-bombs, remember?"

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, yeah. Those…'shark-bombs' sure were distracting." She turns back to me. "But we've been hearing about this stuff all day. How about we get a story that we _don't_ know?"

It takes me a second to realize where she's going with that. "What, me?"

"Uh, I'll second that. What's she supposed to bring to the table, exactly?"

I narrow my eyes, and I think something about my irritation must be showing in my body-language, because Clockblocker backs off almost immediately. "I don't know if it's anything as exciting as poking a giant bomb when your team-mate drops you next to it." Vista grins. "But I could give it a shot."

I almost jump as Victoria rests a hand on my shoulder. "You should totally do that." She smiles, but it's not a particularly _friendly_ expression. "In the meantime, though, I need to have a quick chat with Gallant. So we'll be _right_ over here."

She sweeps away, dragging him along, before I can formulate a proper response. And that leaves me...here. With a pair of Wards, and the full attention of a bunch of strangers besides. I'd say the feeling was familiar, that it reminded me of Winslow, except I doubt anyone attending Winslow would ever step foot in a place like this.

That thought doesn't really make anything better, I decide. But there's nothing I can actually do about it now. Except maybe teleport outside; it's not that far. I can almost see the next rooftop over, from this angle...

No, no. That's stupid. Avoiding the problem, instead of just...solving it.

"Story time, then." I sigh, and pull out a chair. Consider my coat for a moment before sweeping it back and sitting down. Probably isn't a good idea to share any stories that end with me getting shot. Or stabbed. I fold my hands on the table in front of me, frowning thoughtfully as I adjust my gloves...something impressive, but not overly violent. "I cleared out an ABB safehouse, once?"

Clockblocker scoffs, dropping into his own chair and leaning forward challengingly. "Bull."

"Nope." I shake my head. "It actually started at a gunfight, maybe a mile away. A few of the ABB against some Empire thugs. I had to break _that_ up, first…"

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Victoria came back around the time I was ambushing the guy who'd been guarding the money-counters, and almost immediately demanded I start the story over. Which...she could have chosen a worse time, I guess. And nobody seemed ready to complain at having to hear it again.

It...hadn't really seemed like a big deal, at the time. A lot of flailing and scrambling to keep up with the situation as it spiraled further and further out of my control. And, alright, maybe not actually bringing that part of it up makes it _sound_ impressive. But I still don't understand just _why_ Victoria is visibly struggling not to laugh, why Vista is staring at me like that, or why Clockblocker has decided that I'm lying through my teeth.

That disbelief is...insulting. Surprisingly biting, too. "I don't see how it's hard to believe."

"Um, maybe the fact that it starts with you knocking guys out with their own guns, and ends with you deciding that, well, you didn't have anything better to do, so why not knock over an _ABB safehouse_."

I don't know how to argue that, since that's pretty much exactly what happened. I just...isn't that what Capes do? Go out, hit the criminals where the normal authorities can't? Taking out a dozen petty criminals in a drawn-out ambush isn't the most outlandish thing any Cape has ever done. So-

"What's this about safehouses?"

I freeze, reflexively clamping down on my desire to just _teleport away before they can_...can…

Sophia. Why is _Sophia_ here? Why would...Emma. Emma's dad is a lawyer, and lawyers make money. An event like this, Emma would love it...now that I think about it, I can imagine her, standing on the outskirts of our group like the rest of the powerless teenagers that have gathered. So _Emma_ makes sense, which means...it's not a leap to assume-

"Hey, Stalker." Vista glances past me, offers a distracted wave. "Crow-"

" _Not-_ Crow" Clockblocker interjects.

"-was just talking about one of her patrols."

"Taking the fight to the gangs, huh? I can get behind that." _Sophia_ continues, and I take a slow breath. 'Stalker'...? "What about you, Golden Girl? Thought your family would all be out holding down the fort while the real heroes celebrate."

I can practically hear Victoria's teeth grinding. "Nice to see you again too, Shadow Stalker."

 _Shadow_ Stalker. The Ward. I shift in my seat, turn enough to look. To...to confirm. It takes me a long moment to focus on the... _details_. The mask is different from what I expected; her costume, in general, looks better than I remember from that first dream. Vision. Whatever.

"What? I got something on my mask or something?"

Sophia is Shadow Stalker. Shadow Stalker saved Emma from the ABB. Emma and _Sophia_ …

My heartbeat is _thundering_ in my ears, and I vaguely recognize the fact that I'm holding my breath.

"Crow?"

Victoria sounds...distant. And worried. About me.

I take a _deep_ breath, and close my eyes, doing my best not to imagine how _satisfying_ it would be, at this very moment, to break the chair I'm sitting in over Sophia's head. Because that wouldn't be a good thing, it wouldn't help me, and I really need to get out of this situation. Right now. I'm not religious, but I'll go ahead and make it a prayer anyway. I just need-

There's a _crack_. Then the ringing, _shattering_ noise of tempered glass breaking under an enormous weight. I didn't know what that sounded like before, but...with a group of giant, spiny monsters crashing to the floor from above, it's suddenly all I can think about.

Then the darkness flows out from one of the _dogs_ ' riders. I'm not sure whether I should be grateful for the distraction or not.

"Great." I hear Clockblocker mutter from behind me, just before the silent fog reaches us. "Party crashers."

Just...

Fuck. My. Life.


	23. Chapter 18

No light. No sound, except my own pounding heartbeat, the claustrophobic echo of my breathing. I manage to stand just in time for _something_ to nearly just about take my legs out from under me. It takes me falling over the damn thing and rolling off into the legs of the table to realize that it was a chair. And I'm off to a great start, here.

I enhance my vision, and the Darkness vanishes. That makes it much easier to avoid the chair as I regain my feet. And much easier to see the panicked people scrambling around, grabbing, shoving, _trampling..._

I appear beside a man in a suit, who's looking _much_ worse for wear. A sharp push keeps the next person from stomping on him, but that just causes more problems... _shit_.

It takes me five seconds to teleport the injured man into a far corner of the room, make sure he's settled comfortably, and turn my attention back into the fog. In that time, the dogs have made their way toward the Protectorate heroes, several people that I _think_ are PRT troopers have come under attack, and...and Shadow Stalker has decided that the best course of action would be to _shoot blindly into the crowd in the villains' general direction_.

While the comforting _clack_ of a baton extending in my hand isn't audible, feeling it is enough.

And even if I'm not using the chair, I still take way too much satisfaction in hitting Sophia in the face. Because seriously, _what the fuck_? Does she just not give a shit that she's probably shooting innocent people? I mean, I know they're not actual arrows or anything; Wards wouldn't be allowed to carry that sort of thing, right? It's still-

This isn't the time.

I refocus. Grab the crossbow before she can recover enough to start using it again. The people have mostly settled down, cowering against walls or half-hidden around tables...and there's a big group that just got covered in foam. Foam streaming towards the Protectorate heroes, now. The PRT Troopers - the ones that aren't being assaulted - are...they're doing the same fucking thing!? Just firing with those stupid foam guns and _hoping_ they hit something?

Okay. _Okay_. Need to find Grue and shut him down so people stop acting like _morons_.

Victoria is...above. Circling. Dodging? Obviously trying to find some kind of opening. I can help with that. I shove the crossbow through my belt, ignore the way it digs into my side as I reach out-

-and wrap my arms around Victoria from behind. I'm _immediately_ forced to grab on for dear life as she picks up speed and corkscrews violently. The elbow to my ribs _doesn't help_. "Me! It's me!"

"T...Crow!? What the shit!?"

I'd _love_ to sit and play catch-up, but there's no time for that. So while Victoria stops and straightens out, I focus on the floor below. Where to put her…? Wait, yes. There. "Dog." I point. "Take it out."

She let's out a strangled sound. "You want me to kill it!?"

Goddammit. " _Outside_! Take it _outside_!"

"Right. Right, okay! They probably won't give a shit about the windows now, anyway!"

Good. Communication is good. I teleport back to the floor below, and watch her streak down into the darkness to practically _tackle_ the dog I'd pointed out. Armsmaster stops, and reaches out to pull another man (Assault?) back. So he can see, too? Or something? He's a Tinker, so maybe he's got some kind of equipment for it. Don't know, don't really care, because it just means he can turn his attention to other things while Victoria wrestles the dog out of the way.

Next problem... _not_ the PRT Troopers. That's been taken care of by the Undersiders getting their hands on their own foam sprayers. Of course, that just means that now _they_ -

-are spraying foam at the Wards. I reach out, suddenly extremely grateful that Clockblocker and Vista stayed together, because it makes it that much easier to just drop my baton and grab both of them-

-and get us all out of the way as containment foam rains down. Worth it, even with the way Vista twists out of my grip and- _fuck_ , my _wrist_! I try to follow the motion so it doesn't _hurt_ so much, and wind up on my knees. Which is probably the point, isn't it?

I don't have much chance to consider the implications of that before Clockblocker presses a hand to my shoulder...then my head. My mask. No, I'm _not_ one of the Undersiders. Yes, you _should_ be smacking yourself. I reach up with my free hand to grab his arm, and drag his hand over to Vista. She gives my arm another painful twist before letting go and grabbing at him...only to let go when he gets gets a grip on her in return and taps her shoulder a few times.

I really hope that means we're all done hurting each other, because we need to move again. I grab Clockblocker by the wrist, move around to stand at his side before holding his hand out in front of him. I pick one of the two with the sprayers-

-and put the both of us directly behind Regent. Light and sound are a sudden shock. Clockblocker startles, but only for a moment; he recovers quickly and lunges forward, out of my grip, to tag Regent in the back. The villain freezes in mid-fall, while Clockblocker stumbles a few steps to recover his balance.

"Holy shit. That just happened." His voice shakes as he turns back to me. "What just happened?"

"I put you where you n-" Darkness falls. Because of course Grue is paying attention. I _breathe_ again, close my eyes to cancel out and refresh my vision. I open them just in time to see _something_ falling toward me. Half a thought-

-and now I'm the one falling. Not good. No time for a recovery, I need to be back-

-inside. By the man I saved from being trampled. There's the Wards table, there's where I put Vista...she's waving people into motion, and they're disappearing as they move past her. Not sure where she's putting them, but anywhere is better than underfoot.

It looks like there's one less dog in here, too. I don't see Victoria, but...she can handle herself. Clockblocker is...foamed. Just what I needed. On the up-side, that puts Regent out of commission, even if he unfreezes.

Sound returns, suddenly. I shake my head, blink a few times as everything brightens. Grue's pulling back the fog. People are starting to panic again. Taking cover properly now that they can actually see where they are. An unlucky few run straight into piles of still-hardening foam.

A sharp whistle sounds as the remaining dog comes into view. Hellhound, there, reigning it in. Grue, looming threateningly over...Velocity?

And Tattletale, having apparently traded her foam sprayer for a handgun and hostage.

Armsmaster, Miss Militia, Battery, and Assault are all still standing. That's not a terrible show of force, but I can already see them hesitating. I can do something about that. I _have_ to be able to do something about that.

The dog is too big. Hellhound...she's keeping it under control. No telling what might happen if I take her out of here. The other two have hostages...but Armsmaster can counter Grue, and Velocity is Protectorate. This is his job. The frightened woman whose arm is being twisted by a girl with a gun?

That much, I can handle myself.

"Sorry to crash the party, everyone!"

I narrow my eyes as Tattletale calls out, reach for my spare baton and turn it over in my hands.

"But it seems like our invitations wound up l- _hrk_!"

Whatever speech she'd prepared is cut off as I hook my arm around her throat and _yank_ -

-taking her off her feet and putting her on the rooftop with a heavy thud. The gun hits the gravel. I kick it away before she can do more than _wheeze_.

No more hostage. No more gun. And that...that was too easy. She should have seen that coming, right? I think back to...shit, not even a minute ago, when Vista put me on the floor without even being able to see. So before Tattletale can recover-

-I move away, well out of arm's reach.

Alright.

"Four against-" What was it? "Eleven. Even with those dogs...you knew you'd be outmatched." She takes a shaky breath. "So what was the plan, exactly?"

A long moment passes, as she struggles to sit up and catch her breath. "Wh-" She coughs, gasps, and narrows her eyes at me. "Well...I'll admit, we weren't expecting Gloryhole and her pet creeper to be in...in attendance."

The insults are more annoying than anything else. So why is she bothering? "Four on nine isn't much better." Unless...no. "You have backup. The Travelers, right?" Not here yet, obviously...but why wouldn't they have coordinated their attack? Are they just late showing up? Or maybe it's something _simple_. "They ditched you, didn't they?"

She grins, and pushes herself to her feet. "Maybe we're just lulling you all into a false sense of security." Insincere. So she's lying, then. "Yeah, I wouldn't have bought that one, either. I'm obviously not at my best, right now."

 _Thinker_. Right. So she was either lying, or _lying_ about lying. But that doesn't matter; their connection to the Travelers isn't exactly unknown. They've worked together, publicly, in the past. I'm not the only one who might assume they're coming, so it's not something I have to take care of myself.

"It's interesting that you brought me up here. Alone." She's still smiling, but I can tell she's fighting _some_ kind of tension. "And you know, I bet a lot of people saw you disappearing with me, too."

Why does that matter? "A lot of people will see me take you back, too."

Surprise? "Well, that's probably for the best. Wouldn't want all your hero friends asking any...awkward questions." I frown curiously, and she smiles again. "Your little hobby hasn't exactly gone unnoticed, after all. It wouldn't take much for them to make the connection."

My hobby? "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Her smile drops away. "You don't...? Oh, crap." Her eyes widen and dart downward. "There's two of you?"

Two of... _oh_. My hand. The _Mark_. She's talking about someone else with...someone else _connected to the Outsider_. "You're talking about…" Does he have a name? Does it matter? "The Tinker."

"Tinker? Oh, that makes _way_ more sense than I was hoping." She lets out a strangled laugh. "You've met him, huh? That is... _very_ interesting." Another smile; I take a step back when she moves forward, sweeping my coat open just enough for my second baton to be in easy reach. "I take it things didn't go over very well. Not too surprising, I guess. Serial killers aren't usually known for their social skills."

…

"And you didn't know that. So you're not _that_ closely linked. Interesting."

"What are you talking about?"

She takes another step forward; this time I stand my ground in the face of that _grin_. "The police haven't made the leap, yet. They've only found half the bodies, and nobody's connected any of them, just yet. But they don't have a high-end Thinker on hand, do they?" Another step. "Me, I've tied at least a dozen _other_ disappearances to him."

At _least_. How many people...why wouldn't there have been any mention in the notebook I'd taken? If he'd killed a dozen people, there would have been something there. Right?

"And the only thing that any of them have in common is a handful of missing or damaged _bones_."

...no.

She's just barely out of arm's reach, now. I should probably do something about that, but I'm having a little trouble trying to figure out _what_. "You know what he's doing with them."

"I don't." But I do. It makes _far_ too much sense. No mention of killing people, in the notebooks...but there were plenty of times he wrote about 'gathering supplies'. Things that he needed to make the Runes. The Charms. The Outsider said they were made of Whale bone...or had been. In the past. I hadn't bothered to question it. I'd just used the things. Carried them around.

"You know...I could probably share a bit more, if you're willing to talk things through." She leans in. "Our first deal kinda fell through, I know, but we can...you know, even the scales a bit? Huh?"

'Our first deal'? "You mean the time you tried to bribe me to ignore you robbing a bank and taking my best friend's sister hostage?"

She blanches. "Uh…"

I let myself get distracted. I let _her_ distract me. But I'm not going to let her get away with it. And I'm not going to just run away this time. _She_ takes a step back, as I extend my baton with a flick of my wrist. She takes another when I move to close the distance.

"Whoa, hold on!"

I stomp another step closer, and she yelps, stumbling back-

-right into my waiting arms. She has enough time to realize what's happened before I put us both-

-on the edge of another rooftop, higher up. The Gallery is still glowing brightly, just half a block away. And even from this distance, I can see Victoria struggling with a massive dog on the street out front.

Tattletale struggles, for a moment, then freezes as our _precarious_ position registers. "Fuck me…"

"You're going to tell me what you know about this guy. All of it."

She laughs, a little hysterical. "I thought you were trying to be a hero?"

"And I'm questioning a villain who has information on a _fucking serial killer_." I grab her arm, step back, and _push_. She yelps as her attempts to stay on her feet nearly sends her over the edge.

" _Fuck_! Look, all I know is that he exists, okay! He kills people, and he takes bits and pieces of them! He's built these weird sculpture-things, too, all over town, and whenever someone tears them down he'll make more! That's seriously all I have, okay? The rest is just details, nothing useful!"

Shrines. "Where?"

"What-?"

"Where is he building them!?"

"What, do you want a fucking address!? Places! Basements, abandoned buildings, it doesn't matter. If there's a connection to anything, I can't see it, okay!" She cringes as a gust of wind sets both of us wobbling. "I don't have anything else useful, okay?"

"You really expect me to believe that? After the shit you've pulled?" I tighten my grip, gritting my teeth. "You knew I was in the library when I responded to your message online, you knew Panacea would be at the bank a day before you attacked it." A twist, and she's facing me. Pale. Afraid. "You _know_ things…"

"The library thing was a guess! I knew you were a teenager, I knew it was a school day, that one was easy!" She has the _gall_ to smile at me. "And the bank...do you really think it was part of the plan to take _Amy Dallon_ hostage? No way. I didn't know she was there until Glory Girl landed on the roof."

"Bullshit!"

She bites down on a scream as I take a step forward, forcing her to lean back over empty space. "It's true! It's true! I swear to God, all I do is make connections! I don't have what you want!"

It...doesn't _sound_ like a lie. And I really do find myself believing her. Is that stupid? Probably. But...I'm getting worked up. So, I take a deep breath, try to relax.

She shivers, glancing down toward the street below. "Just...I told you want you wanted. Just let me go, okay?"

It takes a moment for that to process...and then I snort. Because if Victoria was here, I know _exactly_ what she'd do.

"...wait, no." Tattletale's eyes narrow. " _No_. Don't you _fucking do-_ "

I let her go, and step out of the way as her arms windmill. As she struggles (and eventually fails) to keep her balance. _Of course_ I dive after her when she falls. I'm not actually trying to kill her, no matter what she's done.

We weren't that high up; only a couple of seconds pass before I catch her-

-and take us both back up to the top of the Forsberg Gallery. She collapses to her knees almost immediately, wrapping her arms around herself and shaking violently.

"W-what the _f-fuck_ …?"

"That was for screwing with my friend." I ignore her glare, considering my next move. I still don't have any restraints, which is something I'll need to fix...something _else_ I'll need to fix. After the rest of the clusterfuck that my Cape career is quickly turning into. So, either I hit her until she's in no shape to run away, or...well…

I tug at my belt, tucking my baton in as securely as possible before freeing the crossbow I'd taken to look it over. It's small, obviously meant to be fired one-handed; there's a soft _whirr_ as I squeeze the grip, and the string (cable?) is drawn back automatically. It clicks into place, and a bolt snaps up from inside the main body of the thing.

"That's convenient." It doesn't _look_ like its sharp. And there's no needle or anything, so not a tranquilizer. Not sure how much use a blunt arrow is, but apparently that's what they give her-

"You took that off Shadow Stalker?

I glance at Tattletale, but she hasn't moved at all. "Yeah."

She closes her eyes. " _Please_ tell me that's not loaded with the broad-heads she likes."

 _That_ sounds like the Sophia I know. "It's not." A pause, and I tip it forward to show her.

"Well, I guess tranqs are better than actually getting _shot_." Huh...so they _are_ tranquilizers? "Fine. You got me." She sighs, her expression disappearing behind her hair as she slumps forward. "Just...before you take me, in, I think you should know-"

The arrow hits her in the shoulder. She yelps, flinches, and looks up at me in shock as I correct my aim and wait for the crossbow to reset itself.

"Did you just-?"

The next one hits her in the neck, just above her collarbone, and she glares for another few seconds before starting to waver.

Then she falls. Her eyes shut, and her breathing evens out. Unconscious.

So that's done. Tattletale, captured. And...everything else can wait. Right now, I've caught a Supervillain and I need to take her back inside so that can be handled.

I pad over to her side, poke her with the crossbow a couple of times. No reaction, so it's probably safe to just grab her. A moment to focus on an out of the way corner that had still been clear when I'd left, and then-

-we're there.

The first thing I notice is the lack of crashing and barking. Then that there's no sign of Grue's darkness anywhere. The place is almost empty, only a few groups of party-goers still gathered around. As I watch, Gallant appears in front of them, and guides them across the room in a few steps. Vista still at work.

And in the meantime, the Protectorate are all gathered by the stage. Just... _talking_.

"Hey!" I don't have to raise my voice very much to draw attention. Armsmaster turns my way immediately, the rest of them tensing as they do the same. "Is anyone going to bother helping me with this one?"

The Tinker starts moving, biting something out to the others that I can't hear. Miss Militia falls into step behind him, while the rest just...keep standing around. Which...I guess that's fine. Doesn't matter.

"She's unconscious?" I wave the Crossbow meaningfully, and he nods, coming to a stop a few feet away. "Did you attack Shadow Stalker?"

"I...did I what?" I _did_ , but I wasn't exactly expecting to have it thrown in my face immediately. But maybe that's a good thing. Because it reminds me that she's a _Ward_ , and all that that little fact implies. "I stopped her from firing into the crowd, yeah." When he doesn't say anything, I continue. "Did you get Grue and Hellhound?"

 _That_ gets a response, even if it's only a frown. And a wince from Miss Militia, as she takes a step forward. "They escaped, shortly after you... _captured_ Tattletale."

They _escaped_? "You let them get away?"

"Our priority was to secure the civilians…"

Seriously? I snort, scowl down at the unconscious villain at my feet. "You outnumbered them two to one, and you _still_ couldn't catch them?"

"With Tattletale's capture, half of their team will be in custody." Armsmaster breaks his silence. "The others won't last long."

I grit my teeth, and turn a glare on him. "I guess it's a good thing I was here to take care of that _for you_ , then." Silence. I nudge Tattletale with one foot, then shake my head and step over her, start moving for the broken window that Victoria took the dog through. "Whatever. I'm going to go make sure Glory Girl is okay, and the Undersiders can't have gotten far."

"Before you go?" I stop, turn again. Miss Militia holds out a hand, meaningfully. "I'm sure Shadow Stalker will want that back."

Right. The crossbow. The one that belongs to _Sophia Hess_. "I'm sure she will." I start walking again. "But it's pretty useful. I think I'll keep it."

"That's-"

"Consider it payment for services rendered."

"Wait!"

I pick up the pace, jogging right up to the edge of the shattered window and diving out without hesitation. It's a short fall, and after a quick (and unnecessary) teleport to kill my momentum, I'm looking around the torn up street for...Victoria.

She's sitting on the hood of a car, glaring at a very large, very _injured_ dog that's curled up in front of her. She perks up when I wave, and wastes no time darting over; I wince at the state of her dress. I guess those sorts of things just aren't made for fighting in.

"You okay?"

"Am _I_ okay? You're kidding, right?" She raps her knuckles against my mask, before frowning up at the Gallery. "Did you get'em?"

"Regent. And Tattletale. The rest of them got away."

A flurry of emotions flash across her expression, before she finally settles on a scowl. " _Fuck_ , seriously?"

"Yeah. Apparently they were too much for the 'big heroes' to handle."

She lets out an incoherent, angry noise, rocking back on her heels and crossing her arms. "Shit, I didn't even notice. They're probably long gone, by now…" Her eyes narrow. "You got Tattletale, though?" I nod, and she sighs. " _Good_."

"It's something, at least." 'Good'. "Listen, we might be able to catch them, if we hurry-"

I'm surprised when she waves me off. "No. It's bullshit, but chasing after them now won't do us any good."

Now that I think about it, she's probably right. Which is _frustrating_. Because this was probably one of our better chances to actually do something about those assholes, and now...now I don't have anything to focus on besides everything else that went wrong today. Tonight. Whatever.

"...we need to talk."

Victoria looks pained. "God, do you have to say it like that? What's wrong _now_?"

I'm not even sure where to start.

"Not here." I look around, warily, then offer my free hand. "Your place."

"Sure thing."

And away we go.


	24. Chapter 19

The Charms are right where I'd left them...it wasn't more than two hours ago, was it? It can't have been. But it definitely feels like longer.

The house is quiet, empty, so the sound of the shower starting down the hall isn't hard to catch. Victoria insisted on cleaning herself up before 'having to deal with more bullshit', and I don't really mind the delay. It gives me a little more time to figure out what the hell I'm going to say. What I'm going to _do_.

I drop the crossbow in the corner with the rest of my things, then work my way out of my coat. Spread that out on the floor so I can lay the belt with the Charms out on top of it. I'm not sure _why_. It just seems like the thing to do. And I guess I just want to make sure I can see them. Look at them, even as I move to sit on the end of Victoria's bed.

They look different; the Charms, I mean. Nothing's changed about them; not their shape, not the marks burnt into them, not the stupid little tags of tape I'd had the brilliant idea of sticking on them to keep from mixing them up. But I _swear_ they're different, somehow. Maybe it's just that now I can't help but wonder…

I'd thought of them as 'wishbone shaped', but people don't exactly have 'wishbones'. They have ribs, though. Two curved _bits_ per Charm...is that two ribs? Maybe just one, split in half? I have three charms here. Plus the one Victoria threw away, that's four. The one that...that _he_ broke in front of me, that's five. Ten ribs? Twenty?

How many people died for those _four_ charms? And what about the Runes? What the hell are _those_ made out of?

I close my eyes, struggle to control my breathing as I pull my hood back and yank my mask off. 'My' mask...the one that _he_ made. I turn it over in my hands, hunching over as my stomach twists. It's all metal, cloth. No bone. I wasn't...I wasn't wearing anyone on my fucking face.

No, I was only _accessorizing_ with dead people.

Fuck, I need to think about something else. I close my eyes again and toss the mask, bury my face in my hands. The feeling of cool leather against my skin is a relief. Something I can pay attention to besides potential serial-killer trophies.

I sit there like that and focus on my breathing for...I'm not sure how long. Long enough that Victoria has time to finish her shower, at least. I don't bother looking up as I hear the bathroom door open, or as I mentally track her footsteps down the hall, or even when she slips into the room and nudges the door shut behind her.

"Falling asleep on me, here?"

Oh, how I wish. I'm not sure I'll be _able_ to sleep. Tonight, or in the future. Still, I try to smile. Even if my heart isn't in it. "I wouldn't mind it." I straighten up with a sigh, comb my hair back fitfully...and struggle not to snicker at the sight of Victoria in rumpled pajamas and a towel turban. It's just so at odds with everything else that I can't help it. And for a moment, my smile isn't quite so forced. "Figured I'd give you a chance to get comfortable before I dump this shit on you."

"You're all heart, Taylor." She rolls her eyes, and I have to dodge to the side to avoid her as she turns an _entirely_ unnecessary (and obviously power-aided) flip across the room and onto the bed. She lands in a careless sort of sprawl, frowning up at her ceiling before turning her attention to me. "So what's the damage this time?"

I shoot another glance toward the Charms, and decide that I'm really not ready to get into that. No, we'll focus on the much less sickening bullshit that is my social life. "Bad-news, worse-news then…"

" _Ugh_."

"Sophia Hess."

A moment of silence, and Victoria huffs, sitting up and dragging herself back to rest against the headboard. "That's...bully number two? Track star, shove-you-down-the-stairs psycho bitch."

I nod, slowly. "And a Ward."

It takes her a few seconds to catch on. "She's a what?" A pause, and she holds up her hands. "Wait, no. _No_ , Taylor, you can't just...shit, you're saying she's _Shadow Stalker_?" Her expression twists. "I _knew_ you freaked out when she showed up."

God, I hope it wasn't that obvious. "I recognized her voice. For a second...I thought that they were just _there_." If that had been all it was, I could have played if off. Ignored them. But of course it couldn't be that simple. "She's a Ward. What the hell am I supposed to do about that?"

"You're _sure_?" She moves to sit next to me, hunching forward to catch my eye. "Like, a hundred-percent, no doubt about it?"

I wish I could say I wasn't. But I didn't doubt it before, and I can't really work out any reason to doubt it now. "As close to it as I can be without actually pulling off her mask." _Sophia's_ mask. Because she's a fucking _Ward_. I grit my teeth and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. "So that's the bad news. One of the girls that's been tormenting me for over a year is also a 'Hero'. Ready for the worse news?"

"Not even slightly. Seriously, can I have a minute to fucking process here?"

A bitter part of me wants to point out that I didn't get that chance. I swallow it down with my nausea and force myself to wait while Victoria does her best to restrain herself. When she does finally give me the nod to continue, my carefully worded explanation falls apart as everything just...spills out.

"Tattletale knew about the Tinker. Enough to think that I was connected, somehow. She was trying to screw with my head, I know that, but it's not important. Because she'd been investigating him; I don't know why. Just that she was. And she connected him to a dozen disappearances. And...some bodies, that were found." I stop, breathe, and look to the Charms I'd laid out. Hesitate. But that's _stupid_ , so I need to just fucking say it. "They were missing parts. Bones."

"...what?"

"The Charms, the Runes?" I turn back to Victoria. "I really don't want to believe it, but if Tattletale was right, then they're made from _human_ bones."

Victoria's hand drops off my shoulder, and her attention shifts to the Charms. "That's..." She trails off into silence. I don't think I've ever actually seen somebody 'go pale', but I guess this is just that sort of situation. " _Fuck_. Are you-?" I nod, when she looks my way again. "That's fucked up."

"You _really_ don't have to tell me that."

"Yes, I fucking _do_ , Taylor!" I wince as she raises her voice; a moment later she's on her feet, tearing the towel off her head with _very_ obvious frustration. "I _told_ you these things were fucked up! But no, they're so _fucking_ useful, even with the weird trances and _death-traps_!"

"Death-traps that would have actually killed me if I hadn't had-"

"If you hadn't had the _fucking murder-jewelry_!?"

" _Yes_." I look up at her, doing my best to communicate just how much less than okay I am with the fact. Some of her anger fades, so I guess it works. "Do you think I'm _happy_ that I've been wearing human remains for the past few weeks?"

She stares at me for a moment, then turns away with a few more muttered curses. "...okay. So, _assuming_ that Tattletale wasn't lying...this guy is a full on murderer." She waves at me without turning around. "So we need to tell people. My family. The Protectorate, maybe?"

"The Protectorate. The ones who let four teenagers get the drop on them and couldn't catch the _two_ that I didn't hand deliver to them." I scowl, bitter anger cutting through my uneasiness. "I don't like this, but what are they going to do if we bring this to them?"

"...take over." She faces me again. "Shut us out. They've done it before." Another pause, and she narrows her eyes. "Taylor, we _cannot_ do this on our own, alright? I know you have this... _thing_ about asking for help-" I open my mouth to argue that, but she cuts me off with a sharp gesture toward the Charms. "-but _this_ is not negotiable, alright?"

Right. I nod, slowly. It's unavoidable, bringing more people in. I've been so damn obstinate about that, because I've been afraid of having to...what? Admit that someone _gave_ me my powers? And how many people have died in the weeks since I found the first Shrine?

Victoria's been advocating help for awhile now. Maybe it's time I listen.

"Alright." I nod again. "What are we going to do?"

Her brow furrows, and she chews her lip. "I think...tonight's a bust." She slumps, and shuffles over to settle heavily on the bed beside me again. "The family's going to be coming in late, _we're_ not in any kind of good condition; going out now would just be sloppy."

"So we wait?"

"Until tomorrow, at least." She flops onto her back. "We can get started bright and early. I'll get my aunt and uncle on board, they'll convince my parents, and we hit that son of a bitch where he lives."

I guess that's as good a plan as any. "Tomorrow, then." And I guess that means I should head home. Try to rest. "Give me a call when you need me?"

"Totally." She reaches up to tap my shoulder with her knuckles. "And once we bring this asshole down? We're going to figure out what to do about Shadow Stalker."

My laughter is probably _wildly_ inappropriate. But at this point, I really can't help it. It's just so _stupid_. It's stupid, and it's terrible.

But it's going to get better.

We're going to _make_ it better.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

It's a...very long night.

I think I slept, at some point, but I really don't remember it. What I _do_ remember is lying in bed, watching as the light coming in through my window got brighter, as a beam of sunlight crept further and further across my room. Listening to dad go through his morning routine. Hearing the door shut behind him as he left.

That was...half an hour ago, according to my alarm clock. And I'm starting to think that this qualifies as 'morning'.

Checking my phone again assures me that I didn't miss any calls. Or texts. So that's not something I need to concern myself over. Not yet, anyway. Victoria said she _would_ call, no _when_ she'd do it. So it's fine. Everything's on track.

Actually, I should make sure I'm ready to go when the time comes. That would be helpful.

So, I haul myself out of bed. Speed through a shower. Force down a piece of toast. No call, still, so I get to work putting on my costume. There's some trial and error involved, there, but Victoria was kind enough to hand over a little instruction pamphlet after she helped me _out_ of the thing last night.

Eventually, everything is strapped and secured. I barely even flinched when I pulled my mask on, and looking at it all in the mirror again, I manage to convince myself that using it won't be an issue. It really won't. Not like the...Charms. The ones still threaded onto the belt that I'm halfway through picking up before I realize what the _fuck_ I'm doing.

They clatter as they hit the floor again, and I cringe at the sound. The idea of one of them breaking is...I don't even know. How am I _supposed_ to react to this? What do you do when you find out that you've had the desecrated remains of who knows how many _murder_ victims sitting in your fucking desk drawer? That you've been carrying them around because they're _convenient_?

No, that's not why. They're more than convenient. I'd be dead almost a dozen times over if I hadn't taken them. I made the right call based on what I knew. The fact that they're made from...from _people_...doesn't change that. It just means that now I know better. Now I'll just...leave them here.

Before I go to pick a fight with the psycho that made them. The guy that's killed a bunch of people and has already attacked me once.

...no. No, I don't need them. I did fine without them last night, and I've got plenty of backup today. If I'm careful, pay attention, I'll be fine.

Now that I think about it, though, it might be a good idea to put them away. Out of sight, out of mind.

It doesn't take very long to bundle them up in the back of my closet with the Runes. To bury them under clothes and clutter. Out of the way. And yeah, maybe I go a little overboard there, but it's not like I have anything better to do. Besides sitting. Waiting. Thinking. None of those things are particularly appealing to me right now.

Why the hell hasn't Victoria called me yet?

"Come on, Taylor. Relax." Voicing the thought out loud seems like it helps. Although maybe it's not the best idea to start up a habit of talking to myself. I've got enough problems without people starting to think I'm crazy. It's bad enough I'm starting to _feel_ it…

That's my phone. I fumble it out of my coat pocket...and almost immediately hang up the call. God _dammit_. A quick check confirms that that definitely was Victoria. So that's even better. After convincing myself not to toss my phone out the nearest window, I actually manage to call her back.

She picks up immediately, biting out something that I'm sure is mildly insulting (but meant as a joke). I'm not really _sure_ what she said, given the rush of wind turning it into staticky gibberish. "Are you...are you flying?" I grin, despite myself. "I can't hear you if you're flying, you know."

"W-t? -ou-." More static. "-d on." A surge of wind, a scraping hiss, and then silence. "How's that?"

"Better." I nod, tug at my mask to settle it more comfortably around my jaw. "Were you flying?"

"No way. Way too much wind." I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. "I mean, yeah, I was _kind_ of...above the skyline. A little bit. But I figured it couldn't be _that_ windy just hanging around there."

Right...well, she sounds relaxed enough. That's probably a good sign. "Did you talk to your family?"

"Oh, yeah. I brought them up to speed. I mean, mostly. Minus, you know, the really awkward bits. _You're welcome_." I barely have time to mutter a 'thank you' before she continues. "They're on board. Or at least willing to back me on this."

This is happening, then. Good...good. "When?"

"Soon. I was actually on my way to pick you up. Are you good to go?"

"I am _more_ than ready to get to work."

"Awesome. I'll be there in, like, five minutes."

"Great-" And she just hung up. I guess she's in a rush. So, maybe I should make sure I really am ready to meet her.

Costume is set, batons holstered and secure...crossbow? Being able to knock someone out reliably ( _and_ from a distance) would be extremely useful. But it's not the most compact thing in the world, I don't know how many shots are left in it, and I've got no real way to carry it besides...well, holding it. And while I'm sure that I could club someone over the head with the thing in a pinch, that would probably break it.

So I avoid close range unless I have a chance to set it down or something. Why am I overcomplicating this? Victoria's going to be here any second-

Because she's flying. To my house. Probably in full costume. In broad daylight.

There's a part of me that hopes Victoria would be thoughtful and considerate enough not to just swoop down onto my front porch where every neighbor and their dog could see her. And I would really love to believe that.

The brightly glowing figure that _swoops down onto my front porch_ as I unlock the front door shatters that hope into a million tiny pieces. I don't waste time mourning it, though, blinking away the enhancement and yanking the door open. Victoria blinks at me, frozen mid-knock; I use that to my advantage, grabbing her extended hand to drag her inside and, more importantly, _out of sight_.

"Hello to you too?"

I don't slam the door shut, though it's a close thing. "I seem to remember you sitting me down for a long talk about secret identities and why we keep them." Also why they were stupid, but important. There had also been a tangent about how bullshit supervillains were, but we'd been out patrolling at the time, and she had quickly given up on that in order to vent her frustration by breaking up a nearby drug deal.

The look she gives me could best be described as 'skeptical'. "Uh-huh...and which one of us spilled Shadow Stalker's civilian I.D. in less than half an hour?"

That...that may be true. But- "It's different."

Victoria sobers, and nods. "Yeah, it kinda is." She chews her lip, for a moment, then lets out a frustrated sound and shakes her head. "Man, I could have gotten a lot of mileage out of playing the wounded ego, you know?" When I just stand there, uncomprehending, she rolls her eyes and pastes on an offended expression. "'What, I can't have non-cape friends? I think I'm entitled to a little normality you know. That's it, just for that, we're going to hang out outside of costume. A minimum of three hours a week. No exceptions. Yes, you may consider it a punishment…'"

"I think I get the idea." I cut her off before she canget on a roll. But I'm smiling, now, so that's something. "You know I could have met you at your place, right?"

She shakes her head. "This is quicker. Everyone's getting together closer to the docks."

Right, because that's where the hideout is. I think. I remember the area well enough, but where it is in relation to everything else...it's a little fuzzy. Probably not something I should bring up right now, of course, so I just nod agreeably and heft the crossbow a bit. "Let's get moving, then."

Victoria grins, offering her hand without hesitation.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

I hadn't met New Wave at large before. Separately and (with most of them) briefly, yes. But standing here in some broken down parking lot, in front of the full team? With everyone in costume and the pressure of a very real, very serious situation? I feel...very out of my depth.

"Alright, so we're here." Victoria... _Glory Girl_...doesn't seem to be feeling it, of course. That confidence, the lack of concern, it's something I'd really like to share right now. "Did you guys work out the plan?"

There are a few glances shared between the adults, before Lady Photon nods. "This should be a fairly standard capture." She offers me what I think is meant to be a reassuring smile. "We have the advantages of surprise and numbers."

"And plenty of experience in dealing with murderous psychopaths." Manpower chimes in with a tight smile.

Lady Photon shoots him a faintly exasperated look, but nods. "That too." Her expression smooths out again as she turns back to me. "Crow, once we arrive, you'll be with Shielder and Panacea" The pair in question perk up at the sound of their names. Shielder offers a jaunty wave, while Amy offers a vaguely acknowledging nod. Personally, I just try not to cringe at the fact that that name _really_ isn't going to go away any time soon. "You're going to keep them mobile so they can more effectively support us. You'll be following their lead, so pay attention, alright?"

"I can do that."

"Wonderful." Her attention shifts to Glory Girl. "You're going to be with Laserdream."

Glory Girl just smirks as she drifts over to join her cousin. "Bash and Blast."

"Always a classic." Laserdream's answering smile is disconcertingly similar, and I experience a brief moment of concern for whoever winds up getting in their way.

Remembering just who that's likely to be puts that feeling to rest pretty quickly.

"The rest of us will be making sure the suspect is properly attentive." Brandish picks up where Lady Photon left off, glancing toward her daughter before turning a critical frown on me. "You haven't worked with us before, but Glory Girl tells us you're competent. As long as you exercise due caution, we won't have any problems." I bristle, but nod. "If there _are_ problems, we'll withdraw and reassess. We won't be picking a losing fight, any personal feelings aside."

"I _get_ it."

A moment of silence, before Lady Photon clears her throat. "Then let's get moving." She lifts into the air a few feet. "Crow, you can teleport multiple people at a time?"

"At least three. Wh-?" Oh, right. Not _all_ of New Wave are Movers. "I can probably manage everyone. I just need to have physical contact."

"Good." She offers a decisive nod and drifts back, motioning me closer. "You'll be setting our pace and guiding us in. Whenever you're ready."

My stomach clenches as the reality of this whole thing _really_ hits me. It was probably a good idea not to go for a heavy breakfast...I step forward, watch as Glory Girl, Shielder, and Laserdream lift into the air to join Lady Photon. Which, I guess, leaves me with...everyone else.

I look at them. They look back, expectantly.

Shit, this is gonna be awkward. "Alright, just...grab on, I guess." I spread my arms out toward them. Manpower, at least, doesn't hesitate. He's smiling as he moves around to rest a hand on my shoulder; I'm not sure how much I appreciate the contact, but the attempt at reassurance is nice.

Flashbang and Brandish take up positions on my other side, gripping my offered arm; Amy stands opposite them, and hesitates for a moment before taking hold of my sleeve. Which...should be fine. As long as I stay focused.

"I'll take us up to that roof over there, first." I point, as best I can, at the building across the street. "It'll make it easier to follow from the air, right?"

Lady Photon nods agreeably, but doesn't offer anything more. And I get it, because this is part of the plan; this isn't exactly a time for conversation. We're going to catch a killer.

Right. Catching a killer. That's what we're doing...going to do.

I'm hesitating. This is stupid.

"Okay, hold on." A moment to focus, on my destination _and_ everything I need to take along.

We appear on the rooftop. After a few seconds, the shadows of the rest of the team pass over us.

Now I just need to do that a dozen or so more times.

"This would be so much easier if you guys had a van or something."

Manpower snorts, but any response is cut off when I teleport us again.


	25. Chapter 20

I have to backtrack twice before I'm sure I'm on the right track. It's not much of a delay; I doubt it adds more than a minute to our travel time. But that doesn't stop the tension from ratcheting up each time I have to signal the fliers. Doesn't stop me from feeling like an _idiot_ in front of _everyone_.

But then I catch sight of the skyline, while I'm trying to scout our next move, and memories of a resonant _ringing_ bring me up short before I can teleport us away. That...is familiar. From here...I turn, and move us all across the street. "I've got it. Not very far."

No response, but Amy's grip tightens, and everyone else tenses. Two more 'ports puts us across the street from the warehouse. After a few seconds to consider, I take that extra step to put us on the roof. Shrugging off my passengers is more of a relief than I would have expected, but it's not something I can take the time to enjoy; I'm already scanning the area below us for any sign that the Tinker is here. I don't _see_ anyone, but given the range of this particular power that may not be a good indicator. Still, probably the best I can do from here-

Lady Photon touches down, sharing a look with Brandish before turning her attention to me. "This is it?"

Right, right. Working with new people. "Yeah. I don't see anyone inside. Might just be out of range, but he might have moved on already." From what I know, he's done that a few times. I'm hoping that isn't the case here, but it's a possibility that I guess I... _we_...can't really discount. "I can probably put us inside somewhere out of sight, just in case."

"There's a door or two at ground level we could open up, too." Manpower nods toward the edge of the roof furthest from the street, motioning at Laserdream and Glory Girl. "We can go in loud, cover your entry."

A few muttered agreements; I don't really have a problem with that plan, so I just shrug when the others look my way.

"Get into position, then." When the three of them break off (and imagine my surprise when Manpower just _steps off the roof_ ), Lady Photon turns my way again. "Crow, do you need time to recover before we get started?"

I stop and actually think about it for a moment. "No. I'm good to go." _Eager_ , actually. The sooner we get this over with, the better.

She gives me an appraising look before nodding in approval, lifting into the air again. "I'm going to join the others."

And then she's gone, moving down to ground level and slipping out of my range of vision just before my power fades. I look to the others for cues, but everyone is just sort of...quiet. It's not particularly _helpful_ , but the fact that nobody seems worried is comforting, at least.

I really should just relax…

A beam of light flashes through the air from below; a single pulse that leaves me blinking away the shimmering afterimage and wondering why the hell someone is shooting _lasers_ at the sky-

"Looks like they found their entry." Oh. That's why. I try not to wince as Brandish grabs my arm, as I adjust my grip on the crossbow and hold it out a bit so Flashbang can reach from where he's standing beside her. "Take us in."

Right. Just take them in…

"Hey, no worries, alright?" Shielder moves closer, turning his back on me and grinning over his shoulder. "Just keep me in front of you and you'll have your own personal force-field generator."

Yeah...fair enough. I manage a smile as I grip his shoulder shoulder. "Just try not to blast me if I have to drag you anywhere." Panacea rolls her eyes as she rests a hand on my outstretched arm, but doesn't say anything. So I can focus on-

-a spot below, half-hidden by stacked crates and dim lighting. A spot that _really_ shouldn't be as familiar as it feels, but that's not something I'm about to question right now.

Brandish and Flashbang split up almost immediately; she moves ahead while he turns to cover our rear; there's a crash from across the warehouse, and they reorient on that. Of course, by then I've recovered enough to enhance my vision again, and I do just that. Still nothing, in any direction, except for a pair of flying figures on the very edge of my range. Glory Girl and Laserdream. So that crash was the rest of the team…

"I still don't see anything."

Brandish glances my way, brows furrowed. "The others?" I point, and she starts moving. "Stay alert."

Yes, because I wouldn't have thought of that…

Quiet, as we edge along the crates that block off the Tinker's 'workshop' area. It makes it much easier to hear Lady Photon announcing her presence and delivering what has to be a scripted speech. 'We're New Wave, we're here to arrest you'...I'm only half paying attention, to be honest. Too busy trying to look everywhere at once, to make sure this guy isn't trying to sneak up on us, somehow. I'm still not entirely sure how he ambushed me before, but it's not going to happen again. I'm not going to _let_ it happen again.

Not that it seems too likely to happen here. There's still no response to the others' challenge, no sign that he's actually here...I hiss out a curse as we finally reach the 'workshop'. Most of it's been stripped; all the papers, most of the scrap, even the clothes and bedding, gone. The mirror is still there, standing in one corner, so it might not be a completely lost cause, but _still_ …

"So, crazy flew the coop?" I shoot Shielder an irritable look, but he doesn't seem to notice...probably because of my mask. Dammit. "That was a lot of build up for nothing happening, wasn't it?"

"Don't let your guard down." Brandish snaps. "We still don't know that there's no one-"

There's a hollow _thud_ , cracking glass. Light fills the room as New Wave reacts, force fields and hard-light weapons being brought to bear. It'd be impressive, if it weren't for the sudden ringing in my ears, the _pressure_ in my head. I turn, without thinking, to squint at...

The mirror. There's a crack in the mirror.

Another thud- _crack_. A stabbing pain in my shoulder. I blink away my night vision, try to make sense of what I'm seeing as a figure on the _other side of the mirror_ swings a sledgehammer and sends another few cracks spreading across the glass. That's...that's the _Tinker_?

The mirror shows the Void. He's _in_ the Void...did he go through the mirror? And now he's breaking it. He's trying to get away.

My stomach clenches, and I find myself taking aim with my crossbow before I realize that...that isn't going to do any good. "What the fuck…" Another crack. That's...he's not just _trying_ to get away. If this keeps up, he's _going_ to get away.

He's _right there_ , and he's going to get away?

"He's in the mirror!" I'm in front of it a second later, pressing a hand to the glass. Solid, unmoving. The impact of the hammer doesn't seem to even rattle the glass, but I still _feel_ it. See the hateful look the Tinker shoots me a second later. And this close, I can almost hear him shouting at me as he pulls back for another strike. " _Shit_!"

"Crow!"

Brandish. She sounds angry...worried? Probably. But then Glory Girl is beside me, a scowl on her face as she grabs the mirror's frame. "It's some kind of portal?" I nod, because it _has_ to be. "Can we move it?"

She answers her own question a moment later, when she yanks the whole thing to one side before the Tinker can bring his hammer to bear again. It teeters, for a moment, as she struggles to hold it upright...but there's no cracking glass. And the view through it has changed. That worked. But it doesn't help us _reach_ him.

There has to be some way to do that. Some way for us to use the mirror. Otherwise, he wouldn't be trying to _break_ it.

I drop the crossbow, grab the other side of the frame to balance the mirror again, and _think_. It's connected to the Void, somehow. But it's not something I can just step through, so...teleport? Inarrow my eyes, trying to focus past my quickly forming headache. A few more seconds to make sure, and I finally move-

-only for the mirror to crash to the floor as I reel back. The sudden _pain_ is impossible to ignore; it feels like I bit down on a tuning fork. Between that and the _pressure_ in my head...ugh. So that wasn't the smartest thing I could have tried. But it's not like I have a lot of options to explore here. Not when we're _this_ close to catching...

" _Victoria_ -!"

"Look, this thing isn't exactly easy to hold onto…"

Brandish bristles, and I wince away from the light that flares around her hands, squint against the brightness of the broadsword it forms. "Don't _pick it up again_! We don't know what it might do!"

"I know that the psycho-tinker's trying to smash it." Glory Girl just drags the mirror upright again, pulling it back a few more feet in the process. Still no movement on the other side. Is the Tinker even going to bother following it? "Hey Shielder, you wanna get over here and be useful for a minute or what?"

"On it." A shimmering force field forms around the mirror. It rises, turns…

And I finally get a good look at the back. The dull, matte gray marked by smears of crusted red-brown. Dried blood. _My_ blood? It would explain the pounding in my head, wouldn't it?

It also gives me an idea. Probably a _stupid_ idea, but the alternative is standing around like an idiot and letting a murderer get away.

I don't have anything sharp on me, but there are still a few pieces of scrap metal scattered around, and _one_ of those pieces has to have a useful edge…

"Crow?"

Lady Photon lands behind me as I grab a twisted bracket off the nearest table. A couple of sharp points, and it seems solid enough...it'll do. I turn and brush past her, moving towards the mirror again. Yank up my sleeve to pull a glove off. "Bring it down here!"

The mirror drops again, the 'reflected' warehouse still plainly visible, even past the spiderweb of cracks. This close, I could swear there's _light_ leaking through them.

It takes me three tries to open a cut on the back of my hand. By the time I've bled enough to actually get it on the mirror, the Tinker has circled around again. His eyes widen at the sight of me. Surprise. Fear? I hope so. He's got every right to be afraid right now.

The hammer _cracks_ against the mirror again, along with the now-expected spike of pain. But I can work past it. I can focus on the feeling of _power_ buzzing under my hand, and the Void just beyond. I can make this work, somehow. I _have_ to make it work, in order to stop a _killer_.

I have to _get through this thing_.

* * *

 _ **AccEsSinG**_

* * *

"Crow, what the _fuck_ are you doing!?"

A hand on my arm.

The world shatters around me.

And everything...

* * *

" _Well. It seems you can learn after all."_

* * *

...sort of _tips._

I hit the floor, and-

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

"C'mon, _c'mon_ …this is so far beyond messed up and you do _not_ get to slack off and leave me to pull your _sorry ass out of the fire_."

I open my eyes to see a ruined ceiling, the distinctive brightness of the Void outside, and Glory Girl kneeling over me.

…

"Shit."

"Fucking _finally_." She scowls, climbing to her feet and reaching down to grab the front of my coat. I hiss as she drags me into a sitting position. "We're in freakland, the mirror's busted, the Tinker fucked off, and I can't fly anymore." She grunts, keeps pulling, until I realize I should probably make myself useful and get my feet under me. "Also, you're fucking heavy. Tell me you know what's going on? _Please_?"

 _Do_ I know what's going on? "Was I...did I pass out?"

"For like thirty seconds." She waves toward a missing section of wall. "Look, at least tell me your powers still work? You pulled us in here, and this guy is still getting away."

I...I dragged _us_ here.

 _Dammit_.

I can't think of anything to say that will make that better, and I guess there isn't time to _think_ of anything. I've already come this far…I take a deep breath, reach for my power-

-and grit my teeth against the pain. Sharp, stabbing...it fades quickly, but the lingering fatigue left in its wake isn't that much of an improvement. The fact that my powers are working at all is a relief, but…

It doesn't matter. I turn back to the broken wall, take a deep breath. "He went out through there?"

"Yeah." Glory Girl jogs up behind me. "You good to go?"

"Barely. But I'll manage." I pause, chew my lip...unholster one of my batons to offer it over. "Here."

She glares at it, for a second, but _does_ accept it. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"You said your powers were out, right?"

She grumbles and reaches up to tug at the front of my hood, before moving to grab my _uninjured_ hand and drag me towards the wall. "Let's just go beat this asshole into the ground so we can start figuring out how to get out of here."

That's a goal I can get behind.

No more time to waste. There's a chunk of another building outside, tilted on its side; there's enough room there for both of us, and it should give us a good view of our surroundings. After a moment to brace myself for the pain-

-I take us there. It...isn't pleasant.

"Crap, you're _not_ okay, are you?"

It's probably the fact that I'm having to lean against her to stay on my feet that gave it away. "I'm fine." Or I will be. Just a handful of seconds to recover...there are a few more shattered pieces of building and street scattered around us, but no real sign of the Tinker. "Was he teleporting?"

She shakes her head. "Jumping."

He was...jumping. Right. " _Super_ -jumping?"

"Look, he has those Tinker-tech boots and apparently they make him jump really far. What do you want from me here?"

Super-jumping. That's fine. Actually, it's probably _more_ helpful. I'd assume that there are more physical limitations on _jumping_ than teleporting, after all. So, which way will he have gone? Not any of the dead-ends, probably not the farthest 'islands' hanging out there...a flicker of purple light catches my attention. There's...it looks like the front of a house, turned upside-down and set drifting.

It's hard to tell from this distance, but I think the door is open. Considering my past experiences with this place, that's probably a sign.

"Hold on."

Glory Girl's grip tightens, and I start bringing us closer. A shattered rooftop, a floating city bus, and a street corner next to a military checkpoint pass by, and the pain hits just a little harder each time. But I _manage._ The door is right there and, despite being set into a _single_ wall, opens up into darkness.

"You want us to go in there?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

She sighs. "Not really."

I take us in. Slump against the nearest wall and wait for my eyes to adjust.

"So we went from 'Dali' to 'Fun house', huh?" Glory Girl nudges a ceiling lamp with her foot. "I swear, just when I think things can't get any freakier."

"Well here's hoping it's not going to get any worse." I push away from the wall and start moving. "We need to check this place out." I consider enhancing my vision, but reconsider almost immediately. Teleporting was bad enough…

The hallway opens into a kitchen, a living room. Both are obviously clear...but there's a purple glow coming from the second floor. I shuffle up to the edge of the stairway, stop just long enough to listen for movement, and climb down the railing to drop to the ceiling below.

" _Seriously_?" Glory Girl leans over the edge above me. "Just jumping down into the unknown?"

It's really not a time for jokes, but I can't help smiling. "It's sort of worked for me so far."

"We don't have three hours to talk about all the ways what you just said is _wrong_." I step back to give her space as she clambers down. "Where are we going?"

Considering the trail of out-of-place, purple lanterns leading down the hall...probably _that_ way. Glory Girl picks up on it quickly enough, eyes narrowed as she clutches at the baton I'd given her.

Down the hall...all the doors are closed. Not helpful. We could try doing this room by room. Or I could suck it up and use my power-

I flinch away from _something_ that hits my face. Something that _drips_ on my face. I wipe it away with my left hand (the right is still bloody; I'll need to fix that at some point), step back and look up...at the stained carpet. The trail of black leading to the door furthest from the stairs. Is that…?

This is going to be bad, isn't it? I close my eyes, reach for the doorknob...it opens easily into a poorly lit bedroom. One look at the ceiling is enough to make me _very_ thankful for the lack of illumination. " _Fuck_."

"What?"

I've seen the past in the Void, before. The future too, apparently. I'm not sure which of the two _this_ is, but I also don't really feel like speculating. "Bodies."

"...oh."

Silence. Glory Girl turns away from the door, presses a hand to her face...I turn back into the room, do my best to focus on the floor...ceiling. Something _other_ than the dark shapes in the room. "I don't think he's here. Let's check-"

A door opens, and I turn back just in time to see a figure disappear through a door on the _other_ side of the room. It's _him_. "There!" I stumble over the top of the door frame, cross the room, and _follow_ …

It's a hallway, all tile and clean paneling...flickering lights and solid, metal doors. I don't see him, don't _hear_ him...dammit, how far could he have gotten?

"Ugh…" I turn to see Glory Girl slumped against the wall beside the door. "Oh man, what was that?"

* * *

 _There's a crack behind her, a seam between two places. Something **pressing** against it. Limbs reach past me to-_

* * *

"I saw him come this way."

"You...right. Runaway killer." She shakes her head, straightens up, and looks around. "Wait, are we in the PRT Headquarters?"

Is that what this place is? No, wait, it doesn't matter. "Come on. We're right behind him, now." We just have to figure out...which direction we need to go. I mean, we _could_ split up, but...no, never mind. Sticking together is a good thing. "Come on." I start walking. She follows.

No sign of him when we turn the corner, but it does look like the building is less intact in this direction; nothing much beyond it. Looks like a dead end. _Dammit_...I grab Victoria's arm and focus on the other end of the hall. The pain isn't _quite_ as bad, this time, which I'll take as a sign of improvement.

"We're just chasing shadows at this point, aren't we?"

I wince. "Come on." There's actually a hall here, which means that he _had_ to have gone this way.

And it does seem like there's only one route through this place. Blocked intersections, locked doors, exits that open into the Void...I'm pretty sure that with all the turns we've made, we should have crossed our own path at some point, but we never do.

I slow when turn a corner to find a PRT Trooper, standing frozen in front of an open door. Glory Girl nudges me, shoots me a questioning look; I nod, and together we move up. A quick glance inside…what the hell? "He's not in here... _actually_ not in here." Not just hiding. "It's...Tattletale."

"What, seriously?" She pushes past me (and the frozen Trooper). "Oh what's _this_ bullshit?"

It _looks_ like a man in a PRT uniform attacking a handcuffed Villain in her cell. And it's pretty obvious that that's what it is. Even with her mask, I can tell that that expression is _fear_. The grip he's got on her arm...is that a syringe? That's a syringe. I move closer, try to get a better look at it.

* * *

 _And gain Its attention. So many eyes...watching. **Calculating**. It wants to **know** , and-_

* * *

I shiver, look around the room again. "Come on, we need to keep moving."

"Hold on." Glory Girl is circling the pair, glaring at the scene. "Is this...this whole place is some kind of weird reflection, right? With the mirror and everything?"

She's sort of half right? "From what we've seen so far, it might be."

"Does that mean _this shit_ is happening?"

Probably. Which is its own special category of fucked up. "We're still chasing a murderer." And the longer I stay in this room, the less I _want_ to. "Can we keep moving?"

She bites out something that might be a curse, extends the baton in her hand with a _snap_ , and storms back out into the hall.

* * *

 _And the crack behind her shudders. As if from an **impact**. It widens just enough for a connEctiOn to go tHrough-_

* * *

"Fucking _finally_!" She lifts into the air on her next step; maybe the power outage was temporary? I...that's probably something I should question, isn't it? "C'mon. We're picking up the pace." She doesn't bother waiting for an answer, shoving my baton into my hands before sweeping behind me and hooking her arms under mine. "Hold on."

"Wait, what-?" I wince as she hauls me off my feet, and pull my legs in before she takes off along the hallway. She takes two corners in quick succession (and _way_ more sharply than I'm comfortable with), and just barely stops in front of the elevator at the end of the hall.

The display shows that it's moving up. Considering everything else has been frozen? "He's on the elevator."

"Great." I manage not to stumble when she drops me, adjust my grip on the baton while she tries to drag the doors open.

It doesn't work. The doors stay shut, the numbers keep scrolling, and the elevator travels another four floors before stopping. Glory Girl looks ready to put her hand through a wall...until I step up and hit the call button. The elevator starts moving again. And, after a handful of tense moments, to doors finally open…

Into Winslow High.

"And we're going back to school, apparently." She darts forward, glancing back over her shoulder. "Come on. We're catching up, right?"

Right. "Let's go." She flies. I follow through the familiar hallway. Around the frozen students, past open classroom doors. Ahead of me, Glory Girl turns the corner-

"Hey!"

I guess we found him.

I'm beside her a second later, ice-pick to the skull be damned. It takes me all of a second to recover. To realize what I'm seeing. What Glory Girl is seeing. What the _Tinker_ is... _examining_. He looks up, straight at me, before turning back to...me. The me that the Janitor is trying to ease out of a locker full of waste.

* * *

 _And behind him, a formless **thing**. Alien faces, open mouths, whispering, **guiding**. There's an angry chatter at my back…_

* * *

"This place was a dream. Now it's not." His voice is hoarse, harsh, and I shiver. Because it doesn't sound _right_. "But it's still _like_ a dream. And dreams reflect the dreamer, don't they?"

"Yeah, great." Glory Girl snorts, and rears back. "How about you let me put you to sleep and you can have all kinds of dreams."

She hits him at what has to be at least forty miles an hour, and he folds, his back hitting the floor. I can't do more than _think_ about shouting a warning before he kicks up at her, planting a foot in her stomach; half a second later, there's a metallic _crack_ , and she hits the ceiling.

I put myself beside him, push past the pain in the time it takes for Glory Girl to recover, and for him to start getting to his feet. But then his hand flashes out-

-something _popping_ against the wall across from where I'd been standing. I stagger. Something hisses, there's a crash...and then that _crack_ sounds again. I look up in time to see the Tinker sliding across the floor and into a growing cloud of smoke, while Glory Girl works to right herself.

He's hiding. I can't let him get away...I brace myself, and don't entirely manage to bite down on a cry of pain as I look _past_ the smoke. It only takes a second to spot him; he ducked into one of the nearest classrooms...it looks like he's going for a window.

"This way!"

"Right!"

I charge through the smoke, Glory Girl right behind me. Through the door, _mostly_ out of the cloud...he shoves the window open further, pulls himself onto the sill, and turns to look at us in the brief moment before he falls. Past what should have been the ground, out of my range faster than I can reach the window to try and get an actual line of sight.

Nothing. Just bright light and swirling fog.

He got away.

Glory Girl leans out beside me. _She_ only lingers for a second, before turning around to kick a desk across the room.

I guess neither of us are very happy about this.

"I'm already getting _really_ sick of this guy." I don't bother responding, as she turns to look out the window again. Another moment of tense silence, and she shoves the window frame hard enough to crack it. "Can you get us out of here?"

Probably. I got us _in_ , after all. Got around whatever this guy was using to protect his escape route...only he escaped anyway. Worse...he saw the locker. He saw my _face_ -

"I...help me find a mirror, I guess."

First we get out of the Void, then I start looking at _this_ problem. After _that_ , I can start worrying about fixing it.

Just...one thing at a time.


	26. Chapter 21

AN: So I need to find a better way to translate 'invisible text' into a format that works with . Because I'm not happy with the way I'm presenting it, here. Way too disruptive.

Bear with it, I guess?

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

It's not actually a surprise that the closest available mirror is in the girl's bathroom that had been my haven in the months before I'd gotten my powers. With the way today has gone so far, I wouldn't have expected anything less.

Compared to everything else in this place, it's actually in good condition. No cracks, no grime, no graffiti. But just looking at my reflection, at the crumbling stalls behind me, is enough to confirm that it isn't acting like any sort of 'portal' right now.

Can I fix that? Maybe. No, _probably_. Seeing as how I got us into this, not being able to get us out again isn't an option. So I _will_ do this, just as soon as I...figure out what it is I should be doing.

"So back there, that was the locker thing. Wasn't it?"

I sigh, and squeeze my eyes shut. Lean heavily on the counter in front of me in an effort to ride out a wave of lightheadedness.

"I mean, c'mon. I'm not stupid. We already talked about this stuff."

"We did." Or I did, at least. It hadn't really been a 'conversation' at the time. "What about it?"

Glory Girl moves up behind me, and when I open my eyes I can see her hovering (metaphorically _and_ literally) just over my shoulder. "Are you for real right now? 'What about it'? This... _everything_ about this is six kinds of messed up, and that's without having some nutbar with a grudge tramping all over your Trigger event! You need to get ahold of yourself, Taylor, because you're _seriously_ underreacting here!"

I _don't_ lean away from the steady increase in volume, but I also can't really feel my fingers anymore; I take a second to loosen my grip on the counter before answering. "I think...I'll save my freaking out for after I get us out of here. If that's okay with you?"

She flinches, touching down on the floor and turning away. "Right, whatever. Sorry." She crosses her arms, scuffs her heel, and finally hops up to sit on the edge of the counter. "I didn't miss the way you were bleeding yourself over that mirror back in the hideout. That your plan here?"

"I think the Tinker used my blood to make that thing to begin with." I take a deep breath to pull myself together, reach up to run gloved fingers across the mirror's surface. "There's a connection."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

It's cool. Solid. And when I pull at the freshly scabbed over cut on my other hand to smear fresh blood over the glass, nothing changes. Damn.

"Taylor?"

"Yeah?" Obviously it's more than just blood. Maybe...I press my palm flush against the glass, try to _feel_ the blood. Feel out some edge of my power, like when I was first experimenting with it. "What?"

"If you knew something else about this guy that would help us catch him...you'd tell me, right?"

...I pull back, eye the bloody handprint left behind. "I want to catch him too."

"That's not what I'm asking."

I know that. And she was right; she isn't stupid. And as much as I've been trying to keep secrets, I _know_ that I haven't exactly done the best job. That she's only asking now is probably more than I could have hoped for.

"... _if_." I glance up at her, but turn back to the mirror before I can meet her eyes. "If I did know something that would help, _anything_ more useful than what we've already figured out...then yeah. I'd tell you." I would. If it made the difference between helping people and letting a murderer go, secrets about my powers go out the window.

Glory Girl nods, slowly. "Okay."

Quiet. Nothing more seems forthcoming. Which is fine, because I should get back to working out this mirror thing. Seeing as I'm still bleeding and my headache isn't any closer to going away.

So I press my hand to the glass again, and reach for my power. Not to teleport, or summon rats, or anything else. Just to feel it. Even when that feeling is a vice clamping down on my skull. Because I know this works, _somehow_. The Tinker was able to make a connection using my blood, and I was able to use it myself. I just need to figure out the 'how'.

* * *

 _ **aCcess-**_

* * *

A push brings more of that buzzing pain, and the feeling of energy _moving_ through the blood beneath my hand. For a split second, my reflection vanishes. But then it's back, and I slump against the counter again...tug at my mask until I can pull it up far enough to...yeah, my nose is bleeding. That's not a good sign.

* * *

 _ **IntErFacE fAiluRe**_

* * *

"Jesus, are you okay?" Another set of hands gets to work undoing my hood, and I wipe at my nose with the sleeve of my coat as Glory Girl takes my mask. "Are you gonna stroke out on me?"

Heh. "Maybe." But not before I get us out of the Void.

* * *

 _ **AssiStaNce**_

* * *

"Look, just...take a second, alright?"

* * *

 _"You've come this far with what I've given you. Show me something **new**."_

* * *

That's probably a good idea. Take a second, relax...and get ready to try again. When I do, the power comes easier. The reflection stays changed for longer. And the pain hits just a little harder. The hand on my shoulder helps, but-

* * *

 _ **BeaCoN. AsSisTanCe.**_

* * *

I hiss, fingers curling against the mirror as the reflection _ripples_.

* * *

 ** _compliance_**

* * *

"Uh...was that supposed to happen?"

"Maybe?" Our reflections aren't there, so the other side has to be the real Winslow bathroom. Which means all I need to do now is-

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

This isn't like before. I know that. Because it's...foggy. Unreal.

"This is a dream."

"It is."

The Outsider is here. That makes sense. "But it's not _just_ a dream, is it?" I turn...or maybe it's the Void turning around me. "This is really you."

Black eyes. A smile (and it's so very clearly _fake_ ). "I'm no less real than any other dream."

"If that's supposed to be an answer…" The Void shifts. Or my attention does. There's an ache in my bones as I bleed in front of a mirror. "...who is he? This Tinker." I turn away. "Did you give him his powers?"

Silence. Another smile. And his eyes turn _elsewhere_. "From a certain point of view."

 _Tick. Tock._

The gears turn beneath our feet. I let the motion carry me. "So that's a yes?"

"It is what it is."

"Useless, you mean."

"Only to someone not clever enough to find one."

I want to wake up. I want this day to be _over_. "Just...go away."

And then, nothing.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

I wake up with a massive headache and the lingering taste of blood in my mouth.

Trying to sit up is an exercise in futility, for the moment. I settle for turning on my side and waiting for some of the stiffness in my back and neck to fade.

That gives me the time to recognize the room as Victoria's. That the reason it took me so long to work out is because I'm lying on the bed, not the floor. Perspective is important, I guess...there's a glass of water on her bedside table, and what looks like a bottle of aspirin. Worth the pain?

Definitely.

Propping myself up against the headboard takes time. Keeping my hands from shaking as I drink isn't as difficult, but still annoying. And getting the bottle open...yeah. I'm glad that nobody else is here, because this would be embarrassing, otherwise. Still, I get it done. Down the tablets, and as much water as I can stomach. _Think_.

I was asleep, long enough to dream...long enough for someone to take care of the cut on my hand. Most of my costume has been removed, and...I don't feel any dried blood on my face. So I must have been _really_ out of it-

Could have confirmed the time by looking for the alarm clock. Or out the window. Almost seven, at _night_ , which means I lost most of the day. After leading New Wave into an empty lair and burning out my powers out trying (and failing) to catch murderous Tinker...who not only got his powers from the same source as me (from a 'certain point of view'), but has also seen my face. And that can only be a bad thing.

What can I do about it? The thing with New Wave...I don't know. They were there, they're experienced heroes. And I guess villains do get away. So maybe not something I'll have to worry about. The power burnout? I close my eyes...and _tentatively_ enhance my vision. It doesn't help my headache at all, but it's not the stabbing pain from earlier.

And if the quiet footsteps in the hall hadn't tipped me off to an incoming visitor, seeing Victoria lingering just outside the door would have.

She freezes, the door half open, and I blink a few times to clear my vision again. Note her casual clothes and the basket full of grey-black before offering as close to a smile as I can manage right now. "Hey."

"'Hey'?" She relaxes, tucking the basket under her arm and slouching against the doorframe. "I guess as far as post-coma greetings go it's not so bad, but you _really_ need to work on your delivery."

Post...for a second, I have trouble breathing. Because if I was in a _coma_ , then I would have lost a lot more than a day…but then I realize that, _of course_ , she's joking. "I wasn't in a coma."

"The next best thing, according to Amy." Her expression sobers, a bit, and she pushes away from the doorframe, nudges the door shut behind her. "She couldn't figure out the why, but she was all for getting you to the hospital." That...wouldn't have been good. Victoria catches my expression and nods, setting the basket down at the end of the bed. "Considering what little you've shared about your powers 'tiring you out', I figured giving you a chance to sleep it off might be a good idea."

"Thanks." I edge a little further back against the headboard, wince as something in my back pulls uncomfortably. "I'm guessing you left the water and stuff, too?" She smirks again, and I roll my eyes. "So thanks for that, too."

"Yeah, I know. I'm the best."

I roll my eyes. "It's nice of 'the best' to have brought me my costume back."

She snickers, lifts up to 'sit', legs crossed, just above my feet. "Well, I was feeling kinda generous, since you were so kind as to not bleed all over mine, this time."

Yeah, can't say I'm unhappy I managed to avoid that. "Least I could do."

"Uh-huh."

There's a moment of quiet that stretches just a little too long to be comfortable, before she shakes herself out and drifs off to the side to set down on her feet again. "Anyway, now that you're awake, you can call your dad and we can head back to your place for some commiseration slash celebration."

Back...oh, shit. Dad. I groan and palm my face. "He's probably freaking out."

"He called a little while ago, asking if you were here." She gestures vaguely as she tosses her closet open and starts digging. "I told him Amy wrecked you in a friendly family flag-football match and you were hiding in the shower."

"You-" No, of course she did. I sigh, and watch her for a few seconds as she starts putting together what looks like an overnight bag. "Okay. I'll give him a call."

"Should probably hop in the shower, too. Make sure you got all the blood off of you." She straightens up, shoots me a smile that isn't _quite_ as happy as it should be. "You know, 'cause you were bleeding all over yourself."

"...got it."

I guess I'd better get up, then…

Hold on. "You said 'celebration'? What are we supposed to be _celebrating_?"

Oh, that's not a comforting expression.

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

So. Apparently, I went viral.

Or, 'Crow' has, anyway. Considering the amount of attention the video has gotten, I don't think it's a name I'll be getting rid of any time soon.

Victoria waited to drag me up to my room, at least, until I'd apologized to dad for forgetting to leave a note (again), and for engaging in team sports with a family of Parahumans (' _Flag football, Taylor? Really?'_ ). But then she'd taken almost sadistic pleasure in shoving her phone in my face and making me sit through ten minutes of…

Well... _me_.

It must have been one of the teenagers in the crowd, because it starts with the tail end of Clockblocker's bomb story, and ends with an overly serious Vista insisting the person shooting the footage put their phone down and evacuate with everyone else already.

It also includes the entirety of my awkward attempt at recounting my attack on an ABB safehouse, lots of Grue-induced darkness, and my sneak-attack on Tattletale. The fight between remaining Undersiders and Protectorate is kind of interesting; watching Grue get tossed out of his own fog and into a table hard enough to break it is, in some ways, even satisfying. But the fact that the villains _escape_ spoils any real enjoyment of what would otherwise be an 'awesome cape-fight'.

Particularly embarrassing is the fact that my snap decision to badmouth the other heroes got caught as well. Just barely; cell-phone microphones obviously aren't meant to pick up audio from across the room. But whoever posted the video apparently decided that it was important enough to tweak the volume, because as distorted as it is…

"'Payment for services rendered'?" Victoria is _grinning_ at me, and I feel my face burning as I bury it in a pillow. "That's gotta be, like, plus eight style points. Way to go."

Of _course_ she'd approve. "I regret everything." Well...almost everything. Hitting Sophia in the face was pretty much necessary, so that's not a concern.

"Aww, don't be like that." Victoria sets the phone on the back of my neck, tapping at it for a few seconds. "They _majorly_ dropped the ball, there. And public opinion's mostly on your side, so that's pretty cool."

"I guess." It really could be worse. Somehow. "It probably wouldn't bother me as much if _I_ hadn't dropped the ball today."

"Hey, we did what we could. And you went _way_ further than you needed to, trying to get the guy." She picks up the phone again, taps it against the back of my head, and flops onto her back. A moment later, my muffled voice sounds again; the beginning of my story. The bit that Victoria had missed, before I started over to catch her up. "Totally not the same thing."

I'd really like to believe that. "I guess you're right."

"I'm always right. It just tends to take people awhile to figure it out." She smirks, her full attention on the video. "Don't worry. Eventually you'll get used to it, and trust me, agreeing with me from the start is a _huge_ time-saver."

I roll my eyes, press my pillow into her face, and-

-move across the room, well outside the range of any sort of retaliation. There's a bit of momentary discomfort, a little like sinus pressure, but it disappears quickly enough. "I haven't eaten all day. I'm _starving_. So I'm going to go and fix that. You're welcome to come along if you can put the cape stuff aside for a few minutes."

"I think I can manage that."

Perfect. That'll be another _immediate_ problem out of the way.

"But can I share this with your dad, first? I can't exactly brag about interesting parties with _my_ family-"

"I will feed your phone to the rats under my bed."

"Okay, _eww_." Victoria's legs jerk up and away from where they'd been hanging over the edge of the mattress. "Don't even joke about that...that was a joke, right? Taylor?"

I'm already halfway to the stairs.

"Taylor!?"


	27. Interlude: PHO

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xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

 **Topic: Updated! The Crow's Nest**

 **In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay ► Discussions**

 **Sidebored** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)

Posted on May 6, 2011:

Alright, let's get things settled all official now. For all the rumors and stuff leading up to this, check on the Original Thread.

Here's the official discussion thread for Brockton's latest independent hero, Crow. I'll try to keep things updated, but I'll only be included solid info here. Wild speculation is fun and all, but that ain't the way I play.

[Edit] Thread title selected by poll. You guys just couldn't resist, could you?

Now, most of this is scraped from the old thread, but some new info is included. Here's what we know so far:

Cape Name: Crow? (Semi-confirmed)

Affiliation: Independent (Ties to New Wave)

Costume: Street clothes, black hoody, cloth mask.

[Update!]Reports coming in talking about a 'freaky-ass bird-mask'

[Update!]As of 5/5/11, we've got what looks like a proper costume. Check it out here, and here, with detail on the mask here.

xxxx

Activities: Deals mostly with low-level street crime. Somebody's been dropping two-bit thugs at police stations, and from what I can get out of people, they're all being attributed to the same person.

[Update!] We've got a few people talking about Glory Girl and an unknown with a baseball bat putting the hurt on some Empire jackoffs. Sounds like our mystery cape.

[Update!] Check out the Brockton Wards thread. Kid Win's talking about meeting a new cape. Teleporation and a baseball bat. P.S. The kickass new hero is definitely a lady. For those of you who called it, twenty points. Good on you.

[Update!] Hahaholy crap. Just watch this video.

xxxx

Known Powers-

Teleportation: No limit that anyone's seen, though that doesn't mean much. [Edit] A couple people have said she leaves ash behind?

Rat Control [and Creation]: She...controls rats, apparently. [Edit] And can make them appear out of nowhere, according to her story here.

Night Vision: Mentioned offhand here.

xxxx

Photos:

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Videos:

[Forseberg Gallery Fundraiser 5-5-11]

PHO Wiki Entry

 **(Showing Page 16 of 25)**

 **► HoraceTombs** (Practical Zombie)

Replied on May 7, 2011:

Alright, we're like twenty pages in, and I have to ask. Is nobody else just a little skeptical about the ABB safehouse thing? Not to rag on the new(ish) hero or anything, but you have to admit it's a little far-fetched. One Cape, presumably without much training, operating without backup...

I mean, it makes an awesome story (even if her delivery leaves something to be desired), but can we get a little more confirmation besides 'hey I did this'?

[Edit] Yes, I'm aware that the only other witnesses in this case would be ABB. Yes, I know that most gang members aren't about to talk about having their asses handed to them by one person. I was just curious, jeeze...

 **► DukeBertholtWhiterock**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _HoraceTombs_ : I can definitely see where you're coming from on this one, as cool as the story is, we don't have much in the way of proof, and the only people other than Crow are ABB and I doubt that any of them would be willing to talk. Unless there's someone who has the power to force people to tell the truth… that'd be a pretty scary Master power if used right…

Ah, whoops getting off topic near the end there.

To get back on topic, my real question is how close is Crow with New Wave as a whole? I mean, we know that she's pretty close with GG based on how often they've been seen working together, but what about the other members?

 **► TheSpikyKitten**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

Dudes, I'm still creeped out by that bird mask. And now she can apparently control and evn create rats? Look, all I'm saying is that if there's suddenly a rise in diseases transmitted by animals- or, you know, the bubonic plague- we know who to look for.

 **► DukeBertholtWhiterock**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

That's… a very good point…

On the other hand, think she can control/create bugs too?

 **► PretentiousBastard**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _TheSpikyKitten_ If she wanted to go Willard on us, she probably wouldn't be larking about with Lady Thug-Pummeler. And if the rats she creates are infected, she'd probably be in PRT custody right now. New Wave are a lot of things, but I highly doubt they'd be stupid enough to let a teleporting pocket Nilbog follow them around without some sort of oversight.

Though, in all honesty I'm quite glad the broody ninja plague-doctor didn't go villain. Used properly, that power-set would be a bloody nightmare to deal with if you ain't a cape, and even then it'd still be trouble.

 _DukeBertholtWhiterock_ Your guess is as good as mine, mate. For all we know, she could be hiding precog, sound control, time fuckery, pyrokineses, and being able to transform into a giant stuffed duck under that hood of her's. Hers? Ah, damn it, I always fuck up on possessive apostrophes.

 **► CorvidConspiracy**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _DukeBertholtWhiterock_

Bug control? Really? How is that even remotely related to rat control?

Also, I'm pretty sure that she's just really close with GloryGirl, and that's why they hang out and patrol together. Think about it, GloryGirl was the only member of New Wave at the party, so it'd be a pretty big coincidence if they met through New Wave.

Despite what people like 666-Armsmaster-X-Alexandria-666 and BrocktonWallflower97 say, it's pretty obvious that GloryGirl is OnlyGirl for Crow.

Real question is, is GG's boyfriend willing to share?

 _TheSpikyKitten_

I don't think we should be too afraid of the rats. They probably disappear or something after a while which would mean the diseases they carry dissappears too, if they carry them.

 **► WagTheDog**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _HoraceTombs_ Regarding the whole ABB raid thing, its gotta be true right? I mean, you can see in the video that she beat most undersiders (though not Bitch, would've been very different if she went up against her.). seems to me like shes even better then armsmaster and the other heroes.

 **► TheSpikyKitten**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _WagTheDog_ 'Even better than Armsmaster and the other heroes'? Whoa now, let's not be so hasty; that's quite a claim to make.

More likely, Crow (is that her official name now?) had different priorities from the Protectorate. She saw villains to beat down on, and they saw innocent bystanders to protect. The result tends to be the same (as in, 'stop the cause of the danger [the villains]), but it doesn't always end the same, as we saw from the video. The one cape Crow went after was easily nabbed, while the rest of the Undersiders got away for the most part, because the heroes were focused on defense.

 **► DukeBertholtWhiterock**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _CorvidConspiracy_ , from what we've seen, Crow's a grab-bag cape, she could pull out the ability to shoot tornados from her hands and it wouldn't be too weird. Creating/controlling bugs is just speculation, it might not just be rats but pests in general that she can create.

Also, why are we assuming that Crow's trying to get with GG? Can they not just be friends? Oh wait, this is the internet…

 **► ForsakenSteve**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _TheSpikyKitten_ That may be, but one has to admit that an entire team of Protectorate capes led by one of the formost Tinkers in the world not only failing to apprehend a single one of the Undersiders but also being completely upstaged by virtual unknown is just a tad damning. Make no mistake, a lot of heads are going to roll. Armsmaster's might be one of them.

 **► CorvidConspiracy**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _DukeBertholtWhiterock_

Are you implying that it's possible for someone to NOT try and get with GG? Sounds ridiculous, unless she was, like, her sister or something.

 _ForsakenSteve_

What makes no sense to me is that Armsmaster was awesome enough to take down Lung on his own, but here he gets overshadowed by a newbie teenager.

Maybe it's just that the ones she took won were relatively easy to capture. Seeing how her story was about a safehouse filled with normals, it doesn't seem that she had much experience in cape vs cape fights before the fundraiser.

 **► PretentiousBastard**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _ForsakenSteve_ Mate, they we're going up against a team lead by Grue in a room packed to the ceiling with civvies and VIPs. That, my friend, is what's referred to as a freaking tactical nightmare. The hell would you have them do? Fire blindly and hope they don't hit anyone who's not a villain? Quite frankly, they played it the best they could with what they had.

Also, Crow seems to be able to chain-teleport with no little to no cooldown, and can carry people with her. That is just bullshit in CQC, and it showed. Specifically, it showed on Tattletale's face the moment Crow went and yoinked her out of her little monologue.

 **► DukeBertholtWhiterock**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _CorvidConspiracy_ , I am implying that. I am implying that so hard. If your theory was correct, then why isn't the relationship between the various teen heroes of the city something more akin to one of those shitty harem anime that gets imported from Aleph very now and then?

Also, it makes sense that the Protectorate would have some difficulty catching the Undersiders if they were focused on protecting the civilians, but they probably should have done a bit better…

 **► Clockblocker** (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)

Replied on May 7, 2011:

Hey guys, what's going on in this thr-

Oh! Are we talking about Not-Crow? (It seems like it. People don't seem to remember the 'not' very often.)

I've met her a couple of times, you know. I mean that really literally. Nobody knows anything about her. Except maybe Glory Girl. Which is interesting.

p.s. why does her thread have more replies in a day than mine has had in a month?

p.p.s. Kid Win has informed me it's because I am 'a gigantic toolbox' (but what does he know? He's a grumpy grump that doesn't do his paperwork and reads people's forum posts over their shoulders like a creep)

 _PretentiousBastard_

'Broody ninja plague-doctor'. I really like this, and you should definitely call her that to her face if you ever meet her in a dark alley.

 _TheSpikyKitten_

Hitting the nail on the head, man. There were a ton of people there, and Grue is generally an asshole in a fight. The whole thing was basically a giant hostage situation, even if nobody just up and said it.

I mean, yeah, Crow still kicked ass. Just, you know, if it'd turned into a free-for-all, a bunch of civvies would've wound up stomped by Hellhound's monsters.

 _DukeBertholtWhiterock_

Now I kinda wish that theory was right.

Not because I want a harem (and, I mean, c'mon, who would, right? ) but because I want to see Gallant fumble trying to manage half a dozen relationships at once.

It'd be hilarious. I know you all agree with me. In fact, you should all speculate endlessly on the various potential romantic entanglements that Crow could upset or improve.

Come on, PHO. Don't let me down, here.

 **► DukeBertholtWhiterock**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _Clockblocker_

In regards to your post script, consider the fact that you are no longer a new cape, whereas Crow is new and mysterious.

In regards to the fumbling of relationships, I have no doubt that everyone would be fumbling those relationships, and it'd probably be hilarious to watch. Especially given the fact that if this were as shitty as those anime (anime? Animes?), the villains would eventually get entangled and then it would get really messy.

To be more on topic, might Crow be disrupting the bonds between the members of New Wave without the romantic entanglements.

 **► ForsakenSteve**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _DukeBertholtWhiterock_

Possibly, possibly not. While looking like the main antagonist in a slasher flick doesn't exactly mesh well with New Wave's theme of bright, white, and spangly, I'm not seeing a reason why her apparent alliance with Glory Girl would be inherently detrimental to NW's overall group cohesion, unless they somehow take offense at their members working with outsiders.

 **► PretentiousBastard**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _ForsakenSteve_

Other than the fact that she royally pissed off the Protectorate when she flat-out stole one of Shadow Stalker's crossbows?

 **► ForsakenSteve**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _PretentiousBastard_

Granted, that particular instance may cause some friction, but her ultimate combat effectiveness in matters regarding infiltration, stealth, evasion, and scouting makes her an exceedingly useful asset, and one moment of obstinate belligerence to a third party doesn't strike me as sufficient motivation to alienate her.

 **► TheAngryWombat**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _ForsakenSteve_

So you're saying that as long as she's useful, she can get away with being a total bitch?

 **► ForsakenSteve**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _TheAngryWombat_

If there's any merit to those rumors floating around, one could make precisely the same argument regarding Shadow Stalker.

 **► CorvidConspiracy**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

Maybe a little tinfoil, but maybe not-crow is already working with the PRT? Seems to me like a spy/infiltrator/scout is a lot more effective if people don't know you have them. All this PRT-Crow conflict could just be manufactured to create the impression that the relationship is strained, while she's secretly a ward.

Would explain why Clockblocker is being so nice about her, seems like a weird thing to do if she just stole his teammate's crossbow.

The way I see it, it's either that, or BrocktonWallflower97's crow-blocker ship is correct, and we all know how little sense that makes!

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 ... 23 , 24, 25**

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* * *

 **Topic: Undersiders Discussion Thread**

 **In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay ► Discussions**

 **Pizzaria** (Original Poster)

Posted on January 20, 2011:

It's a thread. About the Undersiders.

Profiles for:

Grue \- Tattletale \- Regent \- Bitch

Known actvities

Suspected activities

Let's talk about Brockton's up-and-coming lesser evils, huh?

 **(Showing Page 43 of 43)**

 **► OnceAndFuture**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

Welp, it finally happened. The Undersiders must have been buying into their own hype, because they actually thought they could hit a Fundraiser full of big-wigs and what's got to be half the heroes in the city...and get away with it.

Spoiler: They didn't.

Video.

 **► ForsakenSteve**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

It appears that someone made a gif of the precise moment Tattletale was snatched away by a teleporting Crow.

To it, I respond thusly:

 **► TheSpikyKitten**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

And now someone just needs to put it to horribly inappropriate music for the situation. Apparently, she's a Thinker of some kind?

Guess she never thought she would become a meme, huh?

...Alright, that was a bad pun. MY BRAIN CAN'T BE TRUSTED!

 **► mr_bob_dobolina**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

Aww man that sucks. Taking on all those capes was a stupid move but watching them go down like punks just aint right. Least Grue got away. He threatened to break my legs one time but at least he's been sticking it to those ABB sons of bitches.

 **► OnceAndFuture**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

Are you for real? You know what the fundraiser they crashed was about, right? The Protectorate and PRT wrecking the ABB?

But you know, hey, if you want to thank the Undersiders instead, that's cool. I bet there are a lot of people in the Docks who would totally agree that they've been helpful.

Here, check it out. There's even some talk in other threads and in the news about how helpful they were helping the E88 wreck about fifty thousand dollars worth of private property and cause a few dozen near fatal injuries.

Seriously, they're practically heroes. And they totally don't deserve to be chased down, arrested, and made fun of on the internet.

 **► VeganPiranha**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

Did they just take too many stupid pills that morning, or are they genuinely that dumb? I mean just... Seriously? Seriously? You seriously thought it was a good idea to assault a fundraiser attended by every Protectorate cape in entire freaking city, plus half the independents? Are they just desperate to see the inside of a jail cell or did they come down with a severe case of Doltus Duficus Moronicus? Perhaps my standards are a little high, but I would expect that any villain team worth their salt to have a collective IQ higher than a brain-dead goldfish in a bowl of fermenting pond-scum! Mother of Christ, these imbeciles are an embarrassment to the human race. Thank god half of them are looked away, so I don't have to worry about losing braincells just by breathing the same air as them.

 **► WagTheDog**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

 _OnceAndFuture_

Shut up they totally could've won, and they only lost Tattletale and Regent, they still have their leader and their most important member anyway and crow would totally have lost against Bitch

 _VeganPiranha_

Shut up your stupid Bitch and the Undersiders are awesome and they totally could have run at the start but didn't run because they're not cowards like you!

 **► CorvidConspiracy**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

 _WagTheDog_

Yeah, they would've gotten away with it if it weren't for those meddling kids!

So, anyone else wondering what happened when not-Crow and Tattletale teleported away together? Anyone else up for some Tattle-Crow?

 **► VeganPiranha**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

I said that if the thought process behind this attack is indication, the Undersiders would be hard-pressed to outwit a moldy fruit basket, not that they're a bunch cowards. And if you love them so much, why don't you go join? I'm sure they'll be looking for worthy cannon-fodder minions now that they've undergone... downsizing. Yes. Downsizing.

 **► DukeBertholtWhiterock**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

 _WagThe Dog_

I know that you're enamoured with Hellhound (in fact, I doubt that there's anyone on this website that doesn't) but I think you're discounting how useful those two probably are to the Undersiders. You can't assume that they're perfectly fine, especially since they literally just lost half of their group.

In regards to a fight between Crow and Hellhound, I'd reckon that Crow would be more likely to win. Teleporting is a really strong power, and I assume that Crow would be smart enough to separate Hellhound from her dogs as fast as she could.

 _CorvidConspiracy_

Given how terrified Tattletale looked when Crow teleported back in with her, I don't think it was anywhere near as romantic as you're imagining. I wonder where they went…

 **► ForsakenSteve**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

 _VeganPiranha_

This attack may not have been as ill-advised as you seem to believe, on account that the only reason that two of their number were apprehended was the meddling of a particular corvid, not the might of the Protectorate or the wrath of any of the innumerable independent capes that were in attendance. I must admit, I might that exceedingly... disturbing.

 **► LividLazer**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

So anyone got any predictions on the future of the undersiders? Will they break out their imprisoned members? Are Grue and Hellhound going to continue going at it with just the two of them? (And are they going at it? I know Bitch is kinda ugly but Grue can just turn the lights off can't he?) Will they recruit someone else? Move to a different city where they won't get taken down by a single rookie?

 _ForsakenSteve_

I'm not so sure if Regent and Tattletale would've gotten away if it weren't for Crow, it's Grue and Bitch that have the Mover/Shaker combo that allows them to escape, they could've failed anyways.

 **► PretentiousBastard**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

 _ForsakenSteve_

There's a reason for that, mate. The Undies were coming in with just about every natural advantage you'd care to name into a scenario that forced every hero there to play turtle. Between the rampaging dogosaurs and not being able to see or hear a bloody thing, it was all they could do contain the Undersiders and keep the panicking civvies safe, and going on the offensive against the bastards would put the ball firmly in their court.

And that was exactly the plan: by forcing the heroes to go on the defensive and cluster up around the civilians, they could herd them into smaller groups and pick them off one at a time.

Aye, Grue and Bitch were probably on crowd control, with Regent and Tattletale on take down duty. All in all, it was a fairly solid plan, but they forgot one thing: No plan ever survives contact with the enemy. In this case, they didn't account for Crow being able to close and take out their enforcers before Grue had time to react and cover, and when they lost the people responsible for thinning out the heroes, the remaining Undersiders either had to bug-out or get worn down through sheer attrition.

Their primary problem was that they relied too heavily on momentum, of being able to smash apart and contain the enemy before they had time to recover and regroup. Crow, by virtue of being more bullshit than the Undies were anticipating, was able to essentially stall and defang them, buying the heroes enough time to finally get their shit together and start going on the offensive.

 _LividLazer_

The Undersiders took a huge loss in this, and pretty much everyone knows it. To survive, they're either going to have to move, recruit some more capes, hire a battalion of goons, and they have to do it pronto. If they don't, they're either going to get captured and hauled off to prison by the PRT, or get picked off/absorbed by one of the other gangs. Honestly, I'm not seeing them recovering from this, and unless they get a freaking miracle they'll be gone in a couple of months at the most.

 **► ForsakenSteve**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

 _PretentiousBastard_

Are you implying that the likes of Armsmaster, Miss Militia, Assault, Battery, Velocity, the legions of PRT troopers, and the small army of highly trained heroically inclined capes are all liable to to be easily defeated in one-to-one combat by a pair of spandex-clad teenagers who are barely old enough to apply for a learners permit?

 **► DyingEarth**

Replied on May 6, 2011:

The Undersiders bounced back after being targeted by Lung, robbed a bank in the middle of the day (and smacked down the Wards + Glory Girl) with minimal help from the Travelers, and were taken down by a wildcard that even you guys admit has been kind of bullshit so far.

So personally? I would be keeping my eye out for their next move. Because it's make or break at this point.

 **► DukeBertholtWhiterock**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _DyingEarth_ has a point here, as much as one would say that the Undersiders are small time, they're small time in Brockton Bay. Most small time groups get ground out by the ABB, E88, and the Merchants, or they get assimilated into one of them.

But, now they're down literally half of their group, likely in a vulnerable position, and probably not doing to well in terms of morale. If someone puts the squeeze on Grue and Hellhound, they might crumble.

 **► LividLaser**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _DyingEarth_

Good point about the travelers, I wonder why they'd work together on the bank job, but not on this fundraiser attack. makes you wonder what the purpose of the whole attack was.

 **► DyingEarth**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _LividLaser_

You're definitely not the only one that wants to know.

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 42, 43, 44**

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* * *

 **Topic: Wards Thread Numero Tres**

 **In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay**

 **Serkos** (Original Poster)

Posted on January 1, 2011:

A New Thread for the New Year!

Wards Thread the Second

Current Roster

FAQ and Guidlines Reminder (Please, for the love of god read these)

 **(Showing Page 96 of 96)**

 **► Orcandle**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _VinnyVeracity_

Exactly. There's no reason for us to even assume otherwise.

 _XxVoid_CowboyxX_

Which is why you need to chill the fuck out, man.

 **► XxVoid_CowboyxX** (Temp-banned)

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 **[User recieved and Infraction for this post]**

 **► Heavy_Seltzer_Water** (Moderator)

Replied on May 7, 2011:

We're dealing with this crap from you on three different threads now. I don't know what's got you so worked up, but have a temp ban while you cool off.

Anyone wants to continue this argument, then they can join him.

 **► LavenderGooms**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

So is that confirmed anywhere? I know that Clockblocker has a habit of talking up just about everything (and normally it's pretty fun!) but usually I can find someone with the actual story.

[Fake Edit] This is _tallyMark_ btw.

[Actual Edit] Ooo, someone's in trouuuble...

 **► Orcandle**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _Heavy_Seltzer_Water_

Yeah, I wasn't really helping there.

But anyway, just checked the thread for Crow again, saw a post. Made me think: if miss Scary Mask did join up with the Wards (which, considering her apparent thing with New Wave, doesn't seem too likely), how do you think she'd fit in?

Synergy-wise, I mean. Don't think we know enough about her to get wrapped up in the interpersonal stuff

 **► VinnyVeracity**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

I think the most obvious would be Clockblocker. I mean, pairing the insta-capture Striker with the teleporter just makes sense. If what tallyMark's saying is right, too, then Crow knows that too.

Thought I saw her with a baton in that video, and she talked about using a bat, but neither of those are really game-changers. Give her a crossbow *heh* or one of Kid Win's laser pistols, though, and you get mobility+reach. Not limited by Line of sight (from what we've seen), and assuming her teleports are practically instant, the fact that she can teleport other people makes her more versatile than the other movers on the team.

I'm more curious how she fits into New Wave tbh. They've got plenty of movers already. I guess she rounds out the close-combat side of things a little bit, but next to Manpower and Brandish I doubt it's very much.

 **► Orcandle**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _VinnyVeracity_

That's assuming she's worked with (or is planning to work with) anyone other than Glory Girl. As a pair, they seem pretty well rounded.

Mover abilities are different (meaning more options), but probably roughly equal in terms of mobility, so they can keep up with each other on the fly. GG Is a solid, flashy Brute, and while Crow's obviously more squishy, she's obviously leaning toward stealth.

Crow's got those rat projections, and can obviously control them pretty well (She mentions using them as a distraction while in another room here) so that's prime recon material there.

Basically my take is that Crow sets things up, Glory Girl knocks them down. Pretty baddass

 **► VinnyVeracity**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _Orcandle_

'Crow sets up, GG knocks down'. That's frickin' sweet, man. Can I sig that?

 **► tallyMark**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

 _LavenderGooms_

Normally I'd agree with you, but considering this time he was talking up somebody else (when he could have claimed all the credit) I'm inclined to believe it.

Which, btw, props to him. Proving yet again why he's Best Ward.

 **► Hummingbird_Saltalamacchia**

Replied on May 7, 2011:

I still think it's cool that the Wards (and Glory Girl) were able to get at least a little bit of payback for Bay Central. Who wants to bet with the Undersider's gone they'll start on the Travelers?

 **► Clockblocker** (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)

Replied on May 7, 2011:

Whoa whoa whoa...whoa.

Whoa.

Okay, first off; Vista is Best Ward. There's no arguing that.

Second, While a little proxy-revenge is nice, we've got bigger things to worry about in this city than a group of b-listers that have probably already moved on.

Third...I don't actually have a third. It just seemed wrong not to try and include it.

P.S. Gallant, I know you're reading this. I just got a threatening text from a very annoyed someone-that-will-not-be-named. Turn your phone on, man.

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 95, 96, 97**

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Dean sighed, logged out, and pushed away from the computer. The familiar _amusement_ practically radiating off of Dennis was reassuring, in some ways, but he would have prefered it wasn't at his expense. A quick turn and there he was, sitting across the room with his phone and…

"Where did you get the binoculars?"

"Gift shop." Dennis lifted them up to show the metallic blue 'Armsmaster' logo. "Picked 'em up a couple days ago and they've really come in handy so far."

The obvious next question was 'what for?', but he wasn't feeling up to falling into that particular trap. Better to focus on what sounded like another potential headache. (And he _hated_ thinking about it that way)...his civilian phone was as readily accessible as the one the PRT had issued, tucked into one of several armored pouches built into his armor. A quick check confirmed why he hadn't received any recent calls.

"I'm...going to go charge my phone."

"Awesome. So I can tell Glory Girl she doesn't need to sicc her feathered friend on me?"

"What, are you afraid of Crow now?"

"I'm pretty sure your girlfriend could convince her to drop a few rats on me when I least expect it." Dennis slumped back, prickling with frustration and, yes, a _small_ spark of apprehension. "And I can't even do my usual freeze-tag retaliation."

"Right, well...good luck with that."

"Uh-huh…"

Grabbing his helmet off the desk almost as an afterthought, Dean wasted no time ensconcing himself in his cubicle of a room and plugging in his phone. A few moments to get it turned on, and check the shorter-than-usual string of missed calls and texts…

But she'd also gone through the trouble of contacted Dennis to get his attention. The least he could do was not get distracted by those and just call her immediately.

The phone rang. She picked up.

"Hey, it's me. Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, you're not picking up your phone is what."

Alright, so she sounded annoyed. But not angry, or afraid, so it couldn't be anything terrible. "I'm sorry. But, you know, you could have called my PRT phone."

"Yeah, right. That's not going to happen." A pause. "So listen, I could use a little Wards-style insight. Can I ask you a few questions?"

That...didn't sound like a good conversation. Dean sighed, rubbed at his face, and sat down on the edge of his cot. "Alright."

He'd been right. Half an hour later, he was wondering why he'd assumed it would be anything else.

"So…" That was Dennis, standing by his open door. "I take it this whirlwind romance is back in the 'off-again' stage?"

* * *

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* * *

"And here I thought _I_ was the empath."

"Dude, you were on the phone for longer than ten minutes. That pretty much guarantees it."

Dean glared, but couldn't put much actual anger into it. Dennis could be an ass, sometimes, but he meant well. "It...does always seem to be over the phone, doesn't it?"

"Makes me wonder why you bother, sometimes. Doesn't really seem worth it, in the long term-" A buzzer sounded, and they both jumped. "Ah, crap. Left my mask…"

And he was gone. Dean sighed, and reached for his own helmet to pull it on. Lock it into place with a familiar click. Another part of the routine, just like Dennis' jokes, the tour coming through...and, apparently, an over-the-phone breakup.

Were they really in that sort of rut?

A sharp buzz. This time, his PRT phone. An alert from Armsmaster, who was...apparently in the building, too.

Well, meeting with their illustrious leader would be a decent distraction, if nothing else.

Dean tucked his PRT phone away, left the other on a side table to charge, and slipped out of his cubicle. On the other side of the HQ was Dennis, suited up and cheerfully freezing couch cushions in the air to the delight of the tourists on the other side of the window. He offered an offhand wave and a friendly smile, himself, before heading _directly_ for the door out.

Making his way through the halls was something he could do in his sleep, now. He'd certainly taken this route _half_ asleep more times than he cared to count. Left from the HQ, two intersections, then a right. Straight onto the elevator, and one Tinker-tech smooth ride later he was two doors down from the briefing room.

Armsmaster was there already; the stern frown and rigid posture were as inscrutable as ever, but even he _felt_. At the moment, it was...well, sharp. Like curiosity, but colder. 'Focus' was about the closest description he'd ever been able to attribute to that particular feeling, and it meant that something _specific_ had caught his attention.

"Gallant. Close the door."

He stepped in and did just that, drawing himself up to show that he was paying the proper attention. "Sir?"

Armsmaster was never one for mincing words. He turned away from the whiteboard he'd been examining (the remains of one of their brainstorming sessions for dealing with the Undersiders), and adjusted the halberd holstered across his back. "Tell me about Shadow Stalker."

 _That_...had to be a coincidence.

"You know, you're the second person to ask me that, today."

A spike, irritation, more focus. And Dean became very aware that he'd drawn Armsmaster's _full_ attention. "Then it's fresh on your mind."

"I guess it is." He paused, sighed, and reached up to adjust his helmet slightly. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Her relationship with the other members of your team."

So, that's where he started.

Answering questions took significantly longer than half an hour, this time.


	28. Chapter 22

Breakfast is an awkward affair. At least, it is for me. Victoria doesn't seem to notice anything wrong. Too busy talking about her 'adventures', and somehow managing to make breaking up a mugging sound exciting between bites of runny scrambled egg. Dad doesn't seem to know what to make of it; I don't know whether it's Victoria's natural, uh... _energy_ , or just the oddity of having a super-hero in the kitchen, but he spends the whole meal looking perpetually lost.

Victoria doesn't excuse herself until the food is gone. _Then_ she's out the door with barely a backwards glance, and a 'reminder' that I owe her for my terrible performance at our 'flag football' match. Effectively leaving me with the lion's share of working out my cover with dad, when I have practically no idea what she's already told him.

Luckily, we're halfway through the dishes before he collects himself enough to ask.

"You know, I was hoping I'd get an explanation for that last night."

Halfway to his elbows in dishwater, still shaking off Victoria's chipper attitude, but he's smiling. I guess the _idea_ of it is pretty funny. "There's not really much to tell."

He shakes his head. "My daughter, playing _flag football_ with _New Wave_. And there's 'not much to tell'."

I snort, rinse the next plate as it's passed my way. "I...really didn't mean to stay, as long as I did. So then I kind of got...dragged into it?"

"You had fun, though?"

Yesterday? Not particularly. Last night hadn't been _bad_. And today…? It hasn't been terrible, so far. It could probably get worse, but for the moment things seem almost…

Normal.

"Yeah." I nod, setting the plate in the drainer to dry. Because we're doing dishes. After breakfast with a friend, and what basically amounted to an _actual_ sleepover. "It was good."

"Well, I'm glad." Dad considers the sink, for a second, before piling the last of the dishes in. "I think this can soak, for a while. How about..." A pause, as he dried his hands, and offered the dish-towel. "Why don't you go pick out a movie, kiddo? We can have a, ah…'Friday matinee'."

It's forced cheer, but I don't draw attention to it. That wouldn't be fair. Instead, I dry my hands, and offer my own best attempt at a smile. "Don't you have work?"

That was probably the wrong thing to ask, judging by how his expression twists. It lasts _just_ long enough to notice, but I recognize the helpless anger. It's unfortunately familiar. "I called before you two were up, to be sure...truth is, though, they don't need me there every day. Right now, anyway."

I nod, slowly. With everything going on lately, it makes sense that things at the Dockworkers Union have slowed down even further. Maybe I should have realized that before. Thought about it, before. Maybe…

"I can pick out a movie." I toss the towel on the counter, smile again. "If you finish the dishes."

He relaxes. Just a little bit. "That hardly seems fair." But he's already turning back to the sink. "I guess we can say these soaked long enough…"

I doubt they actually needed it to begin with. But they make for a decent distraction, and I slip out of the kitchen without needing to put together a response.

In the living room I find a movie that I don't remember seeing before. Or owning. From the looks of it, it's a pretty generic Cape-Action piece. Uncomplicated, spectacular, probably a little stupid. And it's an Aleph import, which is always good for novelty value, if nothing else.

I could do with not having to think, for a little bit. Action-flick it is.

Setting up doesn't take any time at all, and I settle into the couch just in time for dad to appear. He approves of my choice; I guess he could spend some time not thinking, too.

The movie is almost exactly what I expected. The hero can do no wrong, the villain kicks puppies, and all the CGI effects only serve to make it all seem even _more_ fake. Some of it...I actually have to laugh at how _stilted_ it seems. How... _dull_. Compared to flying through the city and actual _fighting_ …

Does that make me jaded?

Does it matter?

The movie ends about ten minutes after it should have, with a blatant sequel hook. And I can't help but be curious. "Do you know if this _did_ get a sequel?"

"If it did, I'll be very disappointed in the state of the entertainment industry on Earth Aleph." Dad does his best to sound serious, but if his smile is anything to go by, he found it at least as ridiculous as I did. "If you want to put another one on, let's find something more local."

I can't think of a good reason not to. I don't _want_ to think of a reason not to. So I just nod, and get up to go find _something_ that I might be able to enjoy.

Half an hour into what's trying very hard to be an Agatha Christie adaptation, the phone rings. Dad ruffles my hair as he stands, like he did when I was little, and I do my best not to show my discomfort at the contact. Focus on the movie, as I smooth everything out again.

And then comes a shout of surprise from the kitchen. I wince, especially when it becomes obvious that whatever's happening on the other end of the line, my dad isn't happy about it. There are few things that can get him worked up so easily, and none of them are _great_.

Five minutes later he sweeps through the living room on the way upstairs, snapping directions into the phone as he goes. Something about stalling, and 'tell them _this_ or _that_ '. Work troubles. I guess today wasn't the best day to take off…

Ten minutes, and I stop the movie to turn to him. He's got his meeting-with-the-city shirt and tie, and his battered old brief-case. Which I guess answers the question of what's going on. "You have to go to work?"

He sighs, wearily, as he moves to set the phone back on its charger. "Those idiots in city hall are stirring up trouble again. They sent someone by the offices without an appointment to make demands." He stops, takes a deep breath, and runs a hand through his hair. "It's a ridiculous pressure tactic, and _shouldn't_ actually accomplish anything. But I'm not there to help, and...everyone's under stress. They might not make the best decisions, if he pushes."

I know how he means that to sound. I also know what he _actually_ means. "I guess it wouldn't go over well if City Hall got their guy back with broken knees."

His eyes widen, and he coughs into his hand. " _Taylor_. That's...a terrible stereotype, and you shouldn't perpetuate it." It's not a denial, and we both know it. "I could talk all day about government workers, but I really do need to...get going." He shifts, taking half a step toward the door before stopping again. "I'm...sorry. I know I'm leaving-"

"No, it's fine." I cut him off, before he can start that. He's got things to do, and he can't do them here. "Go take care of it." It was nice, but I don't know if I really could have sat here all day. As much as I would like a day off…

"I might go out myself, later."

That gets me a hesitant smile. "Just be careful? You've still got…"

"My pepper spray. Somewhere." It's been awhile since I actually carried it anywhere. I'd be more likely to bring a baton now...and a mask.

"Alright." He nods. "Alright...I'll be home when I can."

"Bye…"

He's gone. I slump back into my seat, and watch as one of the last dinner guests reveals that he's a psychotic murderer.

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and I turn off the TV before it gets any further. I think I'll be going out sooner rather than later.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

"And you didn't even wait, like, ten minutes?"

I roll my eyes at Victoria's tone. Because I really don't get where the incredulity is coming from, here. "Yeah, basically." I slump back, stretching out on the cool gravel to watch the heavy blanket of clouds rolling by overhead. "I mean, I doubt he's going to be back until late." Which gives me plenty of time to work with. "And if he's going to put in another work-day, I don't see why I shouldn't do the same."

"Oh my God, don't make this sound like your day job. That's so _depressing_." She groans. "You _had_ to be enjoying a day off, right? You had a crazy week, you should be in full on TGIF mode here."

"I could argue that my crazy week is actually good motivation _not_ to take a break." Because I doubt the gangs or the serial-killing Tinker are going to stop for a breather. "I just...yeah, I could sit around all day, pretend to do my homework, and waste time watching TV. But why would I do _that_ when I could just…"

There's a hiss on the other end of the line as something brushes across the receiver. "Go out and do something that matters?"

That's it, isn't it? "So it's a Cape problem."

"Kind of? I mean, you can practically fly. Can you imagine trying to ride the bus across town every day to get where you need to go?"

I try. It's...not really appealing. But that can't be all it is, can it? Just 'I have powers, so I want to use them'? No...no, because just teleporting around for fun wasn't the thing that had been weighing on my mind. "I'd like to think I'm worried about a little more than saving bus fare. Like the way the E88 are still moving into the docks."

Victoria scoffs. "Is that seriously what you're worrying about? They've _always_ been a problem."

"But now they don't have the ABB to worry about, do they? Or the National Guard." And considering the fact that the Protectorate had trouble holding off a team of teenagers not too long ago, I'm not very confident they can provide much of a deterrent, either. "So there isn't really anything stopping them, is there?"

"I guess not…"

"Plus, the last time I decided _not_ to worry about something like this, I wound up wearing human remains."

A moment of silence. "That's, uh...that's a good point, I guess."

I thought so, too. "So, yes. It's kind of hard to take a day off when there's still so much to worry about."

There's another long pause, and then Victoria heaves a sigh. "Taylor, you are becoming my sister."

"What?"

"Just because you can _maybe_ do something about this crap doesn't mean you need to run yourself into the ground to do it, okay? If all you focus on is _work_ , then...then you wind up screwing yourself over." Her voice drops a bit, and I'm surprised by the bitterness in her tone. "Trust me on this one. Nobody likes a workaholic."

"Right…"

More silence. The clouds keep crawling along, the traffic noises from below rise and fall with the wind. If it weren't for the faint sounds of movement over the phone, I'd think I'd dropped the call. But, finally, Victoria sighs again.

"Actually, I did call you for a reason. Well, a couple reasons."

I sit up, at that, frown as I sweep some gravel off the back of my coat. "Is something up?"

"Nothing to worry about _right_ now, I don't think. But I called Gallant...to talk about Shadow Stalker."

She wouldn't have gotten a better reaction if she'd dumped ice down my back. I'm on my feet a moment later, my earlier uncertainty washed away by _tension_. "You _told him_ -?"

"No! No, I didn't _tell_ him anything. I just asked a few questions. So chill out, okay?" I try to do just that, but it's _hard_. Because what the _hell_? "Look, seriously, I didn't even mention you."

"That's not-" Okay, that did make it a little better. But it didn't really negate the fact that Victoria had gone digging for information on a member of the Wards by _calling another Ward_. "You could have told me that you planned to do something like that!"

"Well I didn't 'plan' it. So not really?" I glare at the building across from me, but that doesn't do anything to convey just how unimpressed I am over the phone. "But I figured I'd get to it while I was thinking about it. So how about you say 'thank you'?"

"I'll think about it." I close my eyes, try counting to ten. It actually does seem to help, which is nice. "What did he say?"

"A whole lot of nothing." She huffs. "Actually, you know what? Where are you? I can tell you in person, and you can help me find some trouble to put a stop to."

Despite everything, I manage to smile at that. "Now who's the workaholic?"

"Oh, this won't be _work_."

Alright then. "I can be at the usual place in...five minutes?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

Victoria insisted on punching someone before talking about Shadow Stalker. So, I found a couple of E88 thugs selling drugs on a street corner and teleported them into a blind alley with her.

She seemed at least a little more relaxed, after that.

So, with that done, we head up above street level, and settle into our usual patrol routine. I can't say that's not already a comfortably familiar sort of thing.

"Alright, so first, only kind of related. You dropped your crossbow yesterday."

That...was entirely true. I'd managed to forget about it entirely. "You picked it up?"

"Shielder did, so you can thank him for that next time you see him." She waves it off, smirks down at me. "He also suggested you pick up a holster or something. I'm sure we can make something work, but you'll need to come over at some point."

"I'll keep it in mind." Because if I'm going to actually keep the thing, I might as well be able to use it properly. "Maybe I can stop by before I go home." She nods, and rises up, offering me a hand up to the next roof. I roll my eyes, but jump to meet her, gripping her forearm and kicking off the wall as she _pulls_. A bit of a stumble when I hit the top, but I think I manage to recover well enough.

"Smooth moves."

"I could have just teleported."

"This was more fun."

That seems to be a factor in a lot of her decisions. At some point, I might have to bring that up. For now, though, "What can you tell me about Shadow Stalker."

Victoria dips, until she's hovering along at eye level beside me. "Right...basically what I got from Gallant is that nobody really _likes_ her."

I frown, glancing down into the alley below. "He said that? They're all part of the team…"

"And Stalker strikes you as a team player?"

"...the sarcasm isn't necessary."

She shrugs, and continues, circling around to 'walk' on the rooftop beside me, her feet barely touching the ground. "He tried to make it sound like everyone was one big happy family, first. But it was pretty obvious he didn't buy it either. 'Friction with the rest of the team', 'trouble adapting after working solo'...he _also_ slipped up and mentioned a psychologist. Which is standard, for the Wards, but it sounded like something more."

So what did that mean? "If she's such a bad fit, then why would she be there at all?"

"See, that's what I wanted to know. So I called him on the bullshit, and...managed to get the rest of it out of him." She bobs higher into the air with a frustrated noise. "Turns out she's on _probation_. He doesn't know what for, but if she wasn't in the Wards? She'd be in juvie."

She's... _what_? "They put a _criminal_ on the team?"

"I don't know, maybe it's some kind of work-release, 'reform the troubled teen' thing." Victoria rolls her eyes. "The point is, she's actually, 'belongs in jail' psycho, so she's _seriously_ motivated to not get caught. So you can pretty much count on the fact that none of the other Wards know just how bad things are."

"Is that supposed to make anything better?" Because it doesn't. It _really_ doesn't. "They _don't know_ what she does, so it's fine?" She drops down in front of me, but I teleport past her and keep walking. I don't need some dramatic confrontation right now. "Did he say what she did?"

I can almost feel Victoria's glare on my back. "He didn't know. Part of the whole deal was a sealed record or something."

Because _of course_. The PRT wouldn't...if they wanted Sophia - _Shadow Stalker -_ badly enough to keep her out of jail, then they'd care enough to make sure she didn't stand out. Like she was just another Ward.

And Wards don't have criminal records, do they?

"Whatever. At this point, I don't even think it matters." Because what can I do about it? Knowing that Sophia is a Ward doesn't give me more options, not really. I _could_ tell someone, but even if someone believed me then, what? I'd be outing a Ward, and that's all that would matter. It doesn't change the fact that she and Emma are _protected_. It doesn't change the fact that my dad settled with the school, or that Emma's dad is a lawyer.

Knowing that Sophia is Shadow Stalker...doesn't solve the problem.

And that just... _really_ pisses me off. Which sucks, because up until now I'd managed to have an okay day.

"Thanks, Victoria." I shove my hands in my coat pockets, hunching against a sharp breeze as I reach the corner of the rooftop. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, well...I wanted to know, too." I feel, more than see, as she draws up beside me. "I was planning on asking about Tattletale, too. Only I, uh...I got kind of pissed and started an argument. And then hung up."

I can't really blame her, for that. If I was talking to Gallant about this right now, I'd probably be starting an argument, too. "We'll just have to figure that out later. You already found out more than I would have."

"Don't worry. You may be a newbie hero, but you already kick ass!" Her arms wrap around my middle and I yelp as I'm hauled off my feet with enough force to drive my breath out. "You'll make your own contacts, eventually!"

What the _hell_? "Ribs." I wheeze, struggling to free my arms enough to do _something_ about this. "Victoria, _ribs_ …"

"Oh, _fine_. Be that way." Her grip loosens, just enough so that I can breathe again. "Also, this shit is depressing. So, you're it."

I have less than a second to process that before she drops me.

I teleport immediately, and nearly catch her cape before she's out of reach. She _laughs_ , as she darts into the sky.

"...I'd better not get stabbed this time."

A moment to measure the distance-

-and I follow her.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

We range from from one end of the Docks to the other, breaking a couple of times to drop in on some assholes who weren't deterred by the fact it was broad daylight. I don't think any of them were even from the _gangs_. Which is all kinds of bullshit that I don't want to think about.

Keeping up with (and, at times, avoiding) Victoria is more difficult than the first time we did this. Since I can't rely on the added maneuverability or senses from my... _the_ Charms. But that's...probably a good thing. It shows that I'd been getting dependent on them. Getting used to working without is just sensible…

Victoria's hovering, up ahead, scanning the skyline. In the wrong direction, this time, because I took the time to circle around, _specifically_ for this moment. Because when I can see her, and she _can't_ see me? That's when-

-I've got the advantage.

"Tag." I tap my knuckles against her back, stepping away to avoid any immediate response.

But she just laughs and holds up her hands, before turning to face me. "Sneaky. Teach _me_ not to watch my back." She grins, relaxes, and I find myself following suit. "I think that makes us even."

"...I don't think you could score a game of tag with less than three people."

"Sure you can. It's just easier to end on an even score with two."

I consider that, for a second, before narrowing my eyes at her. "With two people, then whoever scores first is _going_ to win."

She gives me a scolding look, her hands on her hips as she rises above me. " _Unless_ it's a draw."

That's the only...no. This is stupid. It's _ridiculous_. And _why am I laughing_? "That's completely arbitrary. And I think I'm done here."

The stern expression turns to a grin. "What, you don't want to grab a late lunch? The Boardwalk's just back-"

Sharp popping, distant, echoing. The fact that I recognize it as gunfire says a lot about my recent habits, and for a moment I feel like that should be more concerning to me than it is.

"...there." Victoria palms her face, touching down on the roof with a groan. "I _hate_ this city, sometimes."

"You mean you hate the assholes who keep trying to ruin it." I correct, orienting on the sound. Just a rough direction, but that's all we really need. "You mind giving me a ride over?"

"Hey, you've got two legs and a Mover power that ain't broken." I turn to eye her, and she snorts. "Yeah, sure, I'll play taxi. Not like I'm not used to _that_ …" She lifts into the air again. And even expecting it, being scooped off my feet is just a _little_ alarming. "Hold on!"

I really try. But I think, in the future, we're going to have to work out something a little more practical. And less embarrassing. Precarious? I know that the fall wouldn't kill me, but something about being _carried_ through the air makes the whole experience much less enjoyable than it could be…

It doesn't take long to track down the gunfire. Victoria sets me down on a rooftop overlooking the skirmish, and we both move to the edge to get a good look.

Empire 88. What _looks_ like a remnant of the ABB. There's got to be over a dozen men down there, all of them armed.

Of course, they're not the real concern. Not with the man in the gray hood, hovering in a thick, misty cloud that had probably been his legs, at one point. Him, and the cloaked woman beside him.

"Night and Fog." I take a step back, reaching up to grip the baton holstered on my belt. " _Shit_."

Victoria seems to agree, judging by her own muttered swearing.

And she's not wrong to be upset. Because really, neither of us are equipped to deal with these two; Victoria can probably counter Night, to an extent, but we can't do anything about Fog. That _and_ the armed men? "I think you should call Gallant back."

"I've got Miss Militia's number." Victoria growls. "It'll be quicker. If nobody down there's managed to call it in already, anyway…"

I hope they did. I also _really_ hope that nobody was stupid enough to hang around and record the fight, since apparently that's a thing that people are willing to do.

Victoria is dialing. I'm sure it'll take a minute for her to work that out, so I turn back to the street-

-and come face to face with a snarling demon mask.

I freeze.

Oni Lee pulls the pin on his first grenade.


	29. Chapter 23

Grenades _crack_. I didn't know that before, but it's all I can think of as I flinch back, as the metal lever flies…

That's a _grenade_.

No time to think. Oni Lee is moving toward me. I move away, faster. Fall. Hit _Victoria_ , and-

-teleport. Falling, heart racing, and then _pain_ as I'm jerked to a stop.

It takes a moment to actually catch up with the situation. To move beyond the sight of teeth and _grenade_ , and realize that I'm in the air. _Hanging_ in the air, Victoria's crushing grip on my arm the only thing stopping me from falling to the street below.

"The fuck-?"

"Oni Lee." I gasp out, twisting... _lashing_ out. My kick connects, a body falls away, another _crack_ sounds-

-and then green fire explodes somewhere below us. He can follow us, because he's a _teleporter_. With grenades, and knives, and guns. More villains below, a lot more guns, too.

Victoria has the phone. She can fly.

"Call for backup. I'll distract him."

" _Dammit_!"

She sounds pained. But she lets go. And I fall.

One, two, three...can't see Oni Lee, can't see Night and Fog, below with the mooks. Four, five-

-and I land in a crouch on the tallest rooftop overlooking the fight. Near the edge. Plainly visible. If I can draw him in, avoid the explosives, avoid getting _shot_...more time for backup to arrive. Stalling.

I have just enough time to draw my baton before I have to dive forward, off the roof-

-to the street below. My 'landing' bounces me off an Empire ganger as he pulls the trigger on his machine pistol. Cries of pain from beside us. Another explosion above.

Oni Lee behind. No grenade this time. A knife. I swing, wildly, but it twists in the air, his arm dipping as he guides it around before driving it up into my ribs. The vests keeps me from being _stabbed_ , but the impact is still painful. Leaves me feeling breathless.

That could be adrenaline, though. The almost-painful pounding in my chest might back that up. If I had the time, I'd consider it more carefully.

When he pulls another grenade, I don't hesitate to take another swing, this one aimed at his wrist. He avoids it...but not the bullets that hiss by me a moment later, the gunshots setting my ears ringing.

Blood erupts from the wounds in his chest, but doesn't have a chance to hit me before it all turns to ash. An unnatural _hum_ , too close, _too close_ , has me 'porting away.

Behind the ABB. Will he bomb his own people? He's been trying to kill me since he appeared, but I can't _tell_. Gunfire, too loud...I'm rattled. I'm letting this _get to me_. Letting it distract me enough that an _unpowered_ gunman nearly puts a bullet in me before I can force myself back into motion. A lunge to the side to avoid the shot-

-puts my shoulder in the small of his back. He cries out, but I'm gone. On the other side of their line. And there's no time to breathe before Oni Lee is on me again. Pressure across the back of my collar, a slash across my stomach, another stab at my ribs that actually _bites_ , and before _he_ can turn to ash, I put myself-

-on a nearby rooftop. Because getting stabbed _hurts_ , and I need a second to actually think. Instead of just being in the middle of everything.

The bleeding isn't bad. I'm still breathing, and the pain...I can deal with that. Fix it later. Focus on not getting stabbed _again_. Which isn't the easiest thing, because Oni Lee...I can't out-fight him like this. Can't outmaneuver, not easily. I got _lucky_ , that first night, but now he's ready for me.

Which...doesn't necessarily mean he can _counter_ me. Not entirely.

Rats. Control.

For a second, it feels like the knife is still digging into my side, but then the feeling of fatigue passes, and I have two dozen rats clinging to the inside of my coat. A few of them slip into its inner pockets, down my sleeves. One curls in the space between my neck and the high collar. And the rest-

-swarm to the ground as I appear behind the ABB again. More of them are paying attention this time, but they don't have a chance to turn their guns on me before the rats reach them. That takes care of _them_ , at least temporarily, which means I can focus on _the bullet that hisses past my head_.

I duck, and teleport to the nearest alleyway, and remind myself that standing on either side of this fight means standing across from murderous gunmen.

Rats spread. Their sight, their hearing, it's _limited_ , but still useful. I get a rough idea of how many people are on this side of the street (more than eight, less than fifteen), the layout of my surroundings (parked cars, overturned food cat, three bodies), the _smoke_...but it's not killing them. Not Fog? Oni Lee probably wouldn't gas his own guys, any more than he'd blow them up...which leaves Night. The inhuman _clatter_ and gurgling scream I hear a moment later seems to support that idea.

If I wasn't struggling to keep my breathing steady, I'd be cursing right now.

I need to calm down. _Focus_. Send a couple of rats to check her partner...their breathing becomes labored, and painful, and I get a good look at Fog drifting away from a flying grenade before it goes off.

Does that mean Oni Lee is distracted? Or just going after a target of opportunity? Either way, he's not paying attention to _me_ right now. I need to keep it that way. Keep out of sight...I move-

-above again, just long enough to get another good look at the street. The E88 have stopped firing and hunkered down, while the ABB are scrambling to stay out of the heavy cloud of smoke spreading across their line. That _would_ be appealing cover, if it weren't for Night's obvious presence.

Which…

Her power has something to do with 'not being seen'. I remember talk about monster forms and brute ratings on the forum, but it's the first part that's important. It explains the smoke, and the _thing_ that tears by one of my rats, leaving a sudden blindspot in my sense of what's inside the cloud.

I teleport down, inside the very edge of the cloud. And, after a moment to ensure it's not going to hinder my breathing too much, I enhance my vision and start forward.

Stumbling, blinded figures. There are cries of panic, cries of pain, from a few splayed out on the ground, still struggling despite the... _damage_ they've taken.

My focus is on the woman that almost cracks her head against a parked car as momentum takes her off her feet. _That's_ Night, I'm almost certain of it, so I waste no time-

-'porting to her side...and kicking her in the head.

She goes limp, and I'm not in quite so much danger anymore. Which is... _ha_. Holy shit. Guns, grenades, knives, and _dangerous_ capes. I don't think I can really claim I'm any _safer._ But I just took down _Night._ And I think that that warrants a little optimism, moving forward.

I've got the smoke for cover, now, but that only goes so far. Most of the ABB guys (the ones that can still walk, anyway) are already out of it, which means it won't be much longer before Oni Lee decides chucking a few grenades in might be a good idea. Things on the Empire side of the street are looking a little too organized for my taste, and...I'm expecting backup. No idea how long _that's_ going to be.

So what do I need to do? Break the bad guys' focus. I've still got plenty of rats to send scurrying across the street, and it doesn't take long to set them to work doing _that_. The shouting and occasional gunshot draw attention from the _other_ combatants, but it looks like the ABB are focusing on pulling out. Which...at this point, I can't do much about. Much more than I already have, anyway…

Fog. Considering I have very little in the way of ranged attack options right now, I'm not sure I can do anything but avoid him. Easy enough.

Oni Lee...he's the most immediate problem. I _did_ manage to drive him off with rats before, but there really isn't any telling as to whether it'll work again. At the same time...there's no reason not to try and get a few on him, anyway. It's something I know will work, after all. And _some_ kind of plan is better than nothing.

The rats disappear, but I summon more, refresh my control once I get them settled and spread out. My vision goes white, but I enhance it again. The smoke is starting to get to me, my eyes stinging and throat itching, but I ignore that as surely as the pain in my side.

I wait. I watch. A pair of rats squirm out of my sleeve, one settling in my empty hand while the other clings to my baton.

When Oni Lee appears a dozen feet in front of Fog, guns raised to fire-

-I'm behind him, shoving the first rat at his collar. When another rat appears, I turn my attention to _it_ , and teleport back to the smoke to avoid the gunfire that follows.

The rat struggles, clawing at cloth, and barely reaches skin before the villain pulls it free and snaps its neck.

Alright then…

Something hits the ground just behind me-

-and I'm back on the roofs. It was a good decision, because the flare of green that explodes into existence a moment later eats away the majority of the smoke. Along with the remaining ABB survivors and half the cars they'd been using as cover.

I ignore the way my hands are shaking, the way it takes more effort than I'd like to collapse my baton and store it away.

He's quick, he learned from last time...can I keep this up? Stalling? As far as I know, he can keep this pace up as long as he feels like it. I'm not _nearly_ that lucky. How long has it been already? How long until backup arrives? Can I afford to wait-

 _Crunch_.

Gravel, behind me. I throw myself down, hitting-

-the sidewalk with a grunt. The heat sends me scrambling away from the scorched surface, a group of rats shaking loose and squealing unsettlingly as they flail on the crackling cement. Note to self: green fire leaves things _hot_.

I let out a breathless laugh, secure my remaining swarm...of rats. And I reach _out_ as I stand, because dammit, I'm not _limited_ to rats. Flies and roaches may not be much, but they _might_ be useful. I don't hesitate to gather what I can into my coat before I have to move again.

Oni Lee, in front of me. I _throw_ before he can do anything other than stand there...he's still got his gun out, and the rats foul his aim. One gets duplicated, behind me, and I spin in place, slinging an arm out as another rat throws itself from my sleeve. That one hits him in the face.

His next appearance is in the air. I put myself _above_ him, twisting and sending a rain of rats and bugs down, before teleporting away, because there's no time to _fall_ …

I hit the rooftop in a crouch, focusing Oni Lee as best I can. Keeping rats on him, despite his attempts to shake them. Getting bugs inside his mask. I have this dizzy moment of deja vu as he teleports _up, around, away_...he's running? That's...

Behind me. I stand, turn-

A burst of _gunfire_.

Two hammer-blows to my stomach, and red hot _pain_ in my side. All my breath goes out of me, and I can't...focus. Can't _breathe_. Can't do much more than stumble, until a hand grips the front of my vest.

Demon mask...gun...hand…

The rat darts out of my collar and sinks its teeth into a finger. Oni Lee bites out a savage snarl, leaves me to slump and struggle for breath as he shakes it off. My knees hit the rooftop and I barely feel it. He's ignoring the rest of them, my swarm. Lifting his gun again. I need to... _get away_. I need to…

A blur of red hits the gun, and Oni Lee catches a padded elbow to the face. When Velocity grabs my hand and tells me to _teleport_ -

-I do exactly that.

Still can't breathe. It's starting to hurt. That would be...oxygen deprivation, wouldn't it? _Fuck_.

"Hey, you're good, come on, relax and take a breath." I flinch at the hand on my shoulder, and the prodding at my chest and back. Too fast, barely there, but still enough to hurt. "Breathe, Crow. Vest caught two shots, the third _feels_ like a through and through, and it's too far over to have caught your lung. Practically a graze. So _breathe_. "

I do. It's shallow, and painful, but then I'm struggling for a second one, and then a third. Not my lung. Just a graze.

Backup's here.

"Alright, good." Velocity looks up, for a second, before turning his attention back to me. "Keep that up, you're doing just fine. Held up after getting ambushed, and you're gonna make it out alive. It's all good training." I nod, and he stands. "I'll send your partner this way. Leave the cleanup to us."

I don't really have an opportunity to respond, before he disappears in a blur. Instead of trying, I pull myself back against the nearest...wall? I'm in an alley. Guess it makes as much sense as anywhere. I wasn't exactly...thinking clearly, when I teleported us.

That was...that was way too close. I swallow, hiss, take as deep a breath as I can manage. Reach up to feel the _damage_ on my vest. The warm, damp spots forming on either side. 'Bullet Resistant'. And if I hadn't had this, I'd probably already be bleeding out, here.

This is...this is _really_ painful.

"Holy _shit_ , Crow!"

Ah, and there's Victoria...Glory Girl. Ugh. Whatever. Right on time. "Hey." Ow. Alright, so talking isn't something to do just yet. I can wave, though, and it seems like enough for the moment.

Well, for me. Victoria doesn't seem particularly comforted by it. "What the _hell_ do you think you were doing? I thought you were going to ditch the guy, not get into a point-blank _gunfight_."

"Kinda…" _Shit,_ okay. " _Tried_. To...avoid." Alright, no more talking. This is bullshit. I hold out my hand, on the side with the stab wound. That one pulls a lot less, I think, than the bullet hole would have...Victoria winces, as she helps me to my feet.

"You owe my sister a trip to the nearest spa. Got it? This one's all on you." That's probably fair. She chews her lip, as I wobble unsteadily. "What do we do about that mess? Velocity said that Armsmaster was on the way, but…"

I shake my head. Because I just got shot three times. I nearly died, just now. Breathing is pain, and _fighting_ isn't even worth considering. "Home."

She grits her teeth, but nods. "Yeah, fine. _Shit_ , you're an idiot…"

I can't argue it right now, but it's still annoying. I press my fingers under the bullet wound for a second, then reach out to swipe them across her skirt.

"Oh, _eww_. What the _hell_!?"

" _Home_."

"Jesus, I said _fine_!"

I think I actually manage to smile.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

Victoria smiles and jokes, as Amy closes the holes in my chest and fixes the _internal bleeding_ that probably would have killed me if we hadn't done anything about it. Amy? She just looks tired. And that, more than anything, is what pisses me off about this situation.

"Sorry." I try to ignore the way Victoria is playing with my vest, and just how far she can open the damaged sections. "I _was_ trying to avoid this."

She grunts, as she lets my hand drop, the strange _squirming_ in my gut finally dying. "That's good. Just because you 'team up' with New Wave doesn't mean you'll always have a healer on tap."

I flinch. Nod. Because it's true. "...your sister said I owe you a spa-day." Her frown turns to confusion, and I offer a weak smile, and a shrug. "I don't know what I can do about that, but…I mean…"

"No, that's…" A pause, and she sighs. "You don't owe me, for this. It's not like I could just _let_ you die."

That doesn't help in the slightest.

An arm hooks around my shoulders, and I fight down the urge to teleport away when Victoria drags me into a one-sided hug. "Hey, so things are cool over here?" Amy yelps as she's subjected to the same treatment, on the other side. "The day's still young, and _we_ missed lunch because of this stuff. So Amy, you should come with us to get something. We can celebrate a job well done!"

That doesn't seem very appropriate, and I do my best not to look too indignant as I... _fail_ to twist out of Victoria's grip. "I got _shot_."

"Celebrate your crazy, shitty luck then. I don't care, I just really want some food." She tightens her hold, her smile sharpening. "You in?"

I almost want to agree out of hand. But I also really don't feel like going out somewhere right now. So, after a moment of consideration-

-I escape, moving across the room to pick up my damaged vest. "I think I've had enough excitement for one day." I turn, smiling at Victoria's dramatic pouting. "You two go have fun. I'm just going to head home."

"Alright, whatever." She waves me off, tugging Amy against her side. "You can mope around all you want, but you're not going to stop _us_ from going out and enjoying ourselves. Right Ames?"

"R-right?"

I smile, and move to pick up my mask. Putting it on one-handed isn't particularly easy, but I guess the practice can't hurt. "Stay out of trouble, Victoria."

"Oh, like you've got any room to talk." I guess I don't… "And don't forget, the PRT's probably gonna want us to stop in and give a statement at some point, after that mess. Just keep it in mind."

"I'll do my best."

She nods. And I leave.

The highest rooftop within range of Victoria's bedroom is about half a block away. I stop there for a few, very _long_ seconds, letting the wind tug at my coat. It _feels_ strange, without the vest attached. Considering I've only had a few days to actually get used to wearing it, it doesn't seem like that should actually be such a big deal…

I look down at the thing, unfold it...poke a finger through the ragged little hole that the bullet had left through the front.

This isn't the first time I've been shot. It's not even the first time that getting shot would have killed me.

I've _died_.

But...no, I've never died. Not really. I've just seen it happen. Felt it. Precognition, triggered by some weird interaction between my powers and a murderous Tinker's work. I'd gotten used to it; having those few extra seconds to work with.

Would that have helped, earlier? Would it have even…'activated'? Maybe it would have saved the vest, at least. Maybe I would have avoided the pain. Maybe it would have let me stand a more solid chance.

I'm getting a little tired of _maybe_. My life has been a roller-coaster, lately, all ups and downs...and as nice as the 'ups' have been…

It takes a little under ten minutes for me to get home. There's a 'traveling as the crow flies' joke in there, somewhere, and I promise myself to never, ever speak it out loud, because I'd never hear the end of it.

The house is empty, as expected. I'm quick to shed my costume and get it packed away, spend half an hour putting together (and then eating) a lunch for two. Healing, I think, takes a lot out of you…

I wind up sitting in my room...with a battered notebook, three Bone Charms, and a pair of Runes spread out on my desk. They look...harmless? Just sitting there. I still can't help but wonder how I didn't realize, before, that there had to be _something_ wrong with them. But how the hell could I have guessed that they were-

The Mark on my hand prickles, as I trace my fingers across the bone and metal. I pick up one of the Charms, and a part of me _knows_ that this is the one that lets me _fly_. Just like _that's_ the one that wouldn't have saved my life, today, if things had gone worse.

Assuming... _assuming_ that Tattletale was right (and I have no reason to doubt that)...then _at best_ , these things were made from the remains of innocent people. Victims. People that...needed help, and never got it.

Could I have saved them? If I'd known? Would I have been able to get them away from the Tinker that did this? To stop him?

I'd like to think so. That I could have helped them.

' _I can't help_ anyone _if I'm dead.'_

The Charm clicks, softly, as I set it down again. I think...I think I've had enough crazy for one day.

Maybe I just need to rest, for a little while.


	30. Chapter 24

A/N: More text in this chapter that would, in another format, be rendered as 'invisible' (in order to represent something that is 'noticed' but not consciously remembered). I think I might try something new to represent the separation within the narrative, and apply it to older stuff if it works out. Let me know, if you've got the time and inclination.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

It's late. Or early. Either way, it's dark outside.

Hunger keeps me from going back to sleep, once I've woken up. I find leftovers in the fridge, enough to tell that my dad must have fixed enough dinner for the both of us. I'm not sure why he didn't try waking me up, but...well, he probably got in late. I can't exactly hold that against him.

It's been a rough couple weeks for everyone. I should keep that in mind.

I feel a little better, once I've eaten. But it doesn't last very long.

Restlessness drives me to pull on my costume, despite the...the damage to the undersuit. And the vest. _That_ won't protect nearly as much, and the bloodstain is...disconcerting. But I'd rather have it than not, which is as good a reason as any to wear the thing.

It also serves as an extra layer between me and the bones that I'm going to be bringing with me, tonight.

I think it must be shame that has me clasping my coat shut before going out the window. And that's all the consideration I'm willing to put into that.

It takes a couple of tries to adjust to the change in my teleportation, but other than an embarrassing stumble or two, I manage pretty well. Soon enough, I'm not even touching the rooftops as I make my way toward the Docks.

Flying is still thrilling...but it feels hollow, now.

Is it wrong that I hate that the most? People are dead, and I'm upset that I can't _enjoy myself_ as much anymore? Yeah, there's something wrong with that. But then, there's something _wrong_ with everything lately. It seems like every day I'm finding some new, terrible _thing_ to be upset about.

And now I can't even take a night off to _relax_. I can't just revel in my powers, the one _good_ thing that seemed to have come from all of it. Because apparently, they involve fucking _human sacrifice_.

I hiss as I teleport again, shifting direction and turning in the air to kill my momentum. A rooftop rolls into view 'above' me-

-and I touch down on it without bothering to recover.

My mask feels too hot, almost suffocating, and I struggle for a second to pull it up and away so I can _breathe_ …

" _Fuck_." My hands are shaking; I just tighten my grip until it _hurts_ , and stop looking at them. Try to figure out why my heart is racing. Why I feel like I'm about to throw up. Why...?

"It amazes me, at times."

I whirl, _throw_ the mask in my hands as hard as I can before-

-teleporting to the other side of the roof. It's empty, bare. No sign of...

"The human capacity for... _focus_."

I freeze, this time. Because I'm actually thinking, now. And who else would be here, except _him_?

He's standing just behind me, holding the mask in an outstretched hand as he examines it. "And interpretation...it's not the most flattering likeness, is it?" He tilts his head, and the mask with it. The grungy, yellowed light from the street below catches on the lenses...but the reflection in his eyes is cleaner. _Colder_. "But then, artists always have taken liberties in what they portray."

I've got no idea what he's talking about. Something tells me I don't _want_ to know. So I focus on the important thing; the fact that _he's_ here. "Outsider." I can _feel_ his attention on me, even though he doesn't turn away from the mask. "Is there a reason you're here?"

There's a bitter note to the question, but I don't know if he even notices...after a moment, he lets go of the mask, and I flinch as it vanishes in a puff of smoke. The weight of it settling in my hand is so sudden that I have to fumble to keep from dropping it.

"An interesting choice, to make use of these things. To re-purpose the efforts and the tools of an enemy...and in doing so, claim the advantages and influence that might have been leveraged against you." He folds his hands behind his back, as he turns to face me. "And I was curious to see that you had picked them up again. _Despite_ having learned of their...origins."

...he knew from the beginning. He had to have known. _None_ of this is coincidence, and I can't even pretend to ignore it anymore. "Did you set this whole thing up?" My mouth feels dry, and I struggle to keep my voice from trembling. "Giving us both powers, playing us against each other? A villain to go with your hero?"

"It would be well within my capability...but this is _not_ my doing." He shakes his head, slowly. "I gave you power, yes. But _your_ choices are what led you to this point."

It's such _bullshit_ , but I can't say for sure that he's lying outright. So I swallow down my anger, and focus on what he _isn't_ saying. "And the Tinker?"

" _Mine_ is not the hand guiding him." The Outsider gestures, vaguely, toward the horizon. "And it was never my intent to do so. Just as you set yourself on _this_ path, he has chosen his own. That you clash is...not unexpected, perhaps. But neither was it my design."

"You gave _super-powers_ to a _psychopath_."

A long moment of silence, before he tilts his head again. "Did you believe that you were the only one to bear my Mark, Taylor?"

I…

"Did you believe that you were the _first_?"

...I didn't even think about it. Not really, not even when the parallels between our powers started to show up. But…

That...isn't important. It's not. So maybe my powers _aren't_ 'unique'. It sucks, it's a _kick in the teeth_ , but it...doesn't matter. Because there's still a killer out there, people are still dead, and dying. And...it's actually good to know what I'm dealing with. Because now maybe I can actually _deal_ with it.

"I'm getting sick of mysteries...and being jerked around because I don't have the whole picture." I clench my teeth, and _glare_. "I want you to answer my questions. You obviously know a lot more about him than you've let on, and now you're going to tell me, so that I can _stop him_."

There's another, _long_ moment of quiet...and suddenly I can't breathe anymore. Suddenly, I want nothing more than to disappear.

Nothing has changed. The rooftop is still clear and empty and poorly lit, the wind still tugs at my coat, at my hair...the Outsider hasn't moved. But I _feel_ as if I'm standing on the edge of a pit, like the only thing waiting for me is _cold_ and _dark_ and an endless _fall_ …

The feeling disappears as quickly as it came. And the Outsider smiles, faintly. "I am not a petty oracle, to be invoked and commanded." I struggle to take another breath, to recover from... _whatever_ that had been, and when I blink, he's standing beside me, with a hand on my shoulder. "But I'll admit that I'm... _impressed_. Your understanding may be limited. And the line between bravery born of courage and of ignorance may be narrow, indeed. But your willingness to _risk_ cannot be questioned, can it?"

I can't bring myself to speak. Or _move_. And, after another second of silence, he nods. "I'll answer your questions, Taylor. If you will answer one of mine." Dark eyes lock me in place as he leans closer. "There is something just behind you. Can you tell me what it is?"

There's… **[** something behind me? **]**

I swallow, close my eyes for a second, and crane my neck to look.

 **[** It's _massive_. I **know** , despite how little of it is illuminated by the light _his_ shadow casts. It _reAches_ foR me, _clicking_ aS it AtTemPts _to-_ **]**

"There…"

 **[** _ **QueAry? HosT?**_ **]**

I shudder, and face forward again, squeezing my eyes shut. They _hurt_ , suddenly...I must...must be more tired than…

"There's nothing behind me." **[** _I lie._ **]**

The Outsider hums, and the feeling of his hand on my shoulder vanishes. "Then I'll leave you to your 'mystery'." I can practically hear his smirk. The fact that I can't do anything about it _burns_ …

"But not...without a piece of advice."

I almost tell him what he can _do_ with his 'advice'. But then I suck it up, and open my eyes again. Blink, at his back, as he walks toward the edge of the roof.

"You are not the only one capable of making allies."

He's gone.

And I…

I don't really want to be on this rooftop anymore, myself.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

Early morning. There's _just_ a hint of light on the horizon, weak and gray thanks to the cloud cover that rolled in overnight. Sunrise is here, and even if it's not going to be much of a spectacle, I think I'll just...sit, and watch it.

The problem with working to distract yourself is that you get lost in it. If you're focused enough to ignore the _big_ things, then apparently you're focused enough to ignore the little stuff, too. Little things like bruises, and aching joints. The knuckles on my right hand throb dully, as I massage my hand through my gloves, and my _wrist_...well. I'm not going to be trying to punch people for awhile. Not until I can figure out what I must have done wrong.

I take a deep breath of salt, and rust, and cold metal...the steady _crash_ of the tide against the hull of the ship makes for soothing white-noise, and on a whim I try to match my breathing to the pattern.

Of course, the moment I finally manage to feel relaxed, my phone rings.

 _Of course_ it's Victoria.

I take one more deep breath, let it out slowly...and answer, even managing a smile in the process.

"You're up early."

There's a pause, and an irritated huff. "And _you_ don't sound like I just woke you up."

"Because you didn't." I shrug, tap my heels against the railing I've been sitting on. "I've been awake most of the night."

"Oh, great. So you can suffer later, then... _I_ got my six o'clock wakeup call from my mom, who got hers from the PRT."

That sounds...unpleasant? "Why-?"

"Because they want us in as soon as possible, and as a bureaucratic, government organization, their ideas of sensible hours of operation are _severely_ skewed."

Right. Yesterday...what a mess. "It makes sense, though. They want us to make a statement or something, right?"

"Pretty much."

"So they don't want to give us time to forget anything important."

"Or to get our stories straight." A pause. "I mean, if we had a story to get straight...which, yeah, we don't have one _this time_. But if we did, then it'd _also_ be a pressure tactic."

"...so you just woke up, right?"

"Shut up." I smile, shut up, and listen to the creak of a bed across the line. "Can you be at the PRT building in an hour?"

It wouldn't take me even half that to reach the place. But I might need to put in an appearance at home, first. "Do you know how long this is going to take?"

"Could be ten minutes, could be an hour."

Yeah. Home it is. "I'll be there."

"Awesome. I'll keep an eye out. We can grab brunch after. You can buy."

" _That's_ -"

"Oops, gotta go get ready, talk to you later!"

She hangs up, and I spend a few seconds just staring incredulously at my phone.

"Brunch?"

Yeah, okay. Brunch. But home first.

I tuck the phone away, pull my mask into place, and get moving.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

Back at home I shower, change, and let my dad know that I'll be at the library for most of the morning. Considering the work he seems to have brought home with him, I doubt he'll miss me too much.

Which is just as well. The less questions I have to dodge...the better.

Back in costume, back out into the city. I've still got almost twenty minutes to kill, so I don't see a need to rush to the PRT Headquarters. Even at a walking pace, I reach it before my hour's up.

No sign of Victoria outside, so I settle on a rooftop one block over to wait. Watch as people walk in and out of the brightly lit lobby, with its...giant windows. Honestly, if it weren't for the bright, shining shield logo emblazoned on the building, you could probably mistake the place for any other office building in town. If a little more upscale than some in the area…

And there she is. Sweeping down to street level. I teleport down to the sidewalk, watch her settle near the building's entrance before appearing behind her.

"Hey."

" _Ffff-_ " She jerks into the air, arching away, and then turning to glare at me. "You _asshole_."

...right. Maybe should have given her a little more warning. "Sorry?" She snorts, crosses her arms, but still settles back on her feet. Just in time to have to dance aside to avoid the opening doors. A man in a suit startles when he realizes he'd nearly backed out into a pair of Capes, and nearly spills his coffee trying to free a hand to hold the door for us.

Victoria rolls her eyes, and gives him a brief smile as she sweeps inside. I offer a vague nod, which is really about the best I can do with a full face-mask. I don't think it's particularly reassuring, and he doesn't let go of the door until we're well past him.

It's as bright inside as it had seemed from the outside. Clean, tiled floors, white-painted walls...little alcoves manned by armed PRT troopers. I can feel them all watching me; clear lines of sight on the entry for _all_ of them. That's not accidental.

"So much for a 'normal office building'."

"Huh?"

I shake my head as Victoria glances back at me. "Nothing."

"Right." She shrugs, and leads us right up to reception without the slightest hint of hesitation. "Hey there. We were 'asked' in to provide a statement?"

I roll my shoulders as the guy's attention turns to me, for a moment, along with...what feels like everyone else on the floor, at the moment. Maybe I should have left the Charms at home for this. After all, what sort of danger could I expect to run into _here_?

"Glory Girl and...Crow? Right?" Victoria nods, and he turns his attention to a computer screen recessed into the counter. A few taps at his keyboard, and he looks up again. "If you'd like to wait for a moment, someone will be with you shortly."

"Yeah, I know the drill." Victoria sighs, and gives me a long-suffering look. "There's _always_ a wait. No matter how much of a heads up you give them."

I'm...not really sure how to respond to that. So I shrug, and glance around...it looks like there are chairs over there, a little section that looks like just about any other waiting area in the world. "So we wait."

"You would be fine with that, wouldn't you?"

"My time isn't _that_ valuable. At the moment."

She scoffs and shoves me, lightly, toward the waiting area. "Well maybe mine is. Do you know how much work is involved balancing schoolwork, heroing, _and_ a social life? That's a 24/7 sort of effort."

I'll have to take her word for it, considering I haven't had a 'social life' for over a year, and I've basically given up on...school…

And I'll not be mentioning any of that to Victoria. She wouldn't let it go…

"I'm sure that most capes can sympathize with that feeling. Though you and the Wards _do_ have things a little harder, there."

I blink, and turn...and take a moment to _adjust_ to the reality of the situation. To how very different my life has become, lately.

Technically, I've already met her once. And...well, I probably didn't leave the best impression. But still, _Miss Militia_ smiles at us, behind her bandanna. And _Victoria_ doesn't even react, other than to turn and comb her hair back. "Yeah, I can't wait to be done with high school…" She sighs. "So, you're here to do this debrief thing?"

"I'll be helping, yes." Miss Militia nods toward the bank of elevators on the other end of the lobby, gestures for us to follow. "We do intend to make this whole thing as painless as possible, after all."

Victoria falls into step behind the Protectorate hero almost immediately. After another second of ' _that's Miss Militia'_ , I manage to follow them. Into an opening elevator.

A thought occurs, as the doors shut. "You're 'helping'?"

She turns to me, reaching to hit a button for an upper floor without bothering to look. "I'll be talking with Glory Girl, today." Another smile, as she faces forward again. "Armsmaster volunteered to handle _your_ report."

Armsmaster…?

Oh.

...great.


	31. Chapter 25

I don't know what I was expecting, exactly. Probably something like you see on TV; some small, poorly-lit room with a metal table and two-way mirror.

The actual meeting room is...well, just that. An open room, white-painted walls and humming fluorescent lights. A long table lined by comfortable office chairs, with an empty whiteboard standing at one end. It's quiet, not terribly uncomfortable. But I think the clock hanging on the wall in front of me is slow, because there's _no way_ I've only been waiting for five minutes-

I almost flinch when the door does actually open, but then it's just a relief from the quiet. Or, mostly a relief. Because on one hand, now that Armsmaster is here, we can finally get this thing over with. On the other...the last time I saw him, I made a less than stellar impression. It doesn't help that, with him just _standing_ here, I can't help but think of posters and action figures... the Armsmaster-brand _underwear_. Oh God-

"Crow, correct?"

I blink, and shake off my discomfort as best I can. Focus on the _actual_ Armsmaster, right in front of me. "Um…"

The corners of his mouth turn down, and he moves to stand across from me, his hands folded behind his back. "You name _is_ Crow, isn't it?"

Oh. _Oh_ , right. "Yeah." Jeeze, pull yourself together, Taylor. "Not necessarily what I would have chosen, but it seems like that decision is well and truly out of my hands." That I manage not to sound bitter is something I'm actually a little proud of.

Armsmaster, for his part, only nods. "It's unfortunate, but not uncommon." Strangely enough, I'm not feeling the sympathy. He continues a moment later, moving right to business. "You were asked here today to provide information regarding a skirmish between the Empire-88 and the Azn Bad Boys. I'll be recording audio of our meeting for further reference." He pauses again, but doesn't actually wait for me to respond. "Will there be any issues with that?"

I do actually take a minute to think it over. But in the end, I can't come up with any _specific_ reason not to just go along with it. For now. So I shake my head, and settle back in my office-chair. "That's...it shouldn't be a problem."

"Very good." He finally moves again, sitting down across the table from me. "I'd like you to walk me through your involvement in the situation, to the best of your ability. From beginning to end."

Beginning to end, huh? "Alright." Just start from the top. I already spent the night thinking about the fight with Oni Lee, so it shouldn't be so hard to talk it through. "Glory Girl and I were-" Goofing off. "-patrolling, near the area. We heard the gunshots, and went to take a look. I got us onto a rooftop overlooking the street; we saw a lot of guys with guns. Empire, ABB...Night and Fog were pretty obvious."

Armsmaster leans forward, gauntlets clicking as he folds his hands on the tabletop. "Oni Lee?"

"We didn't see him until he attacked us." The asshole. "We _were_ just going to call it in, but he made that...difficult."

"He's a dangerous opponent. The fact that you're still alive does you credit."

...alright. "Thanks?" I can't make out any real change in his expression, so I can't tell...I think that was a compliment? But really it's just another reminder of how _massively_ I could have screwed up. "So...he came after us, tried to catch us in an explosion. I teleported us out of range. When he tried to follow, Glory Girl and I split up so she could call for help."

Now there's a hint of a frown. "If he had focused on her, she might not have been able to contact us in time."

I hadn't really been thinking that far ahead, at the time. Still, it's a good point. "I was... _pretty_ sure he'd target me first. We've crossed paths before." Just the once, but apparently it had been enough to piss him off. "It didn't end in his favor."

"...I see." Armsmaster gives a curt nod. "Continue." A brief pause, and he clears his throat. "Please."

"Okay?" Moving on, then. "I drew him out. He attacked me...I mostly avoided him." Minus some attempted stabbings. And more explosions. "I tried to make things difficult for the guys on the ground, while I was at it. Figured he wouldn't be so free with the grenades if I was in the middle of the ABB."

"That was reckless." I rock back, slightly, at the interruption. "There were twelve fatalities determined to have been caused by Tinker-tech explosives, likely leftovers from Bakuda. Five were confirmed to be ABB affiliates."

That was...no, that made sense. I swallow, close my eyes, and try to remember. "That...sounds about right, actually. But I think that came later." Deep breath. Don't think about how hot that fire had made the street. "I got myself out of sight. Called up some rats to use."

"Your projections."

I don't know if I'd call them that, but it's as good a term as anything else. "I can get feedback from them. And if they're on Oni Lee when he teleports-"

"-then they're duplicated with him?" I nod, and Armsmaster shifts, tilting his head almost imperceptibly. "Good thinking. But not a perfect countermeasure."

Definitely not. "It's what I had." He nods, and I focus on my story again. "I dropped some rats on the street, to keep tabs on the gunmen, then backed off before I could get shot at. Fog had drawn Oni Lee's attention, and Night was using the distractions to create a smokescreen over the ABB." She'd been the one to put them down; the ones that hadn't run, at that point. "Since Oni Lee _wasn't_ trying to kill me at that point, I was able to take her out of the fight...pretty easily, actually."

" _Easily_?" I open my mouth to clarify, but Armsmaster holds up a hand. More quiet, and I count five seconds on the clock before he speaks again. "...you were able to see through the smoke and negate her power. You caught her by surprise?"

"She hit car. I kicked her in the head before she could get up."

His frown becomes a little more pronounced. "That could have been extremely dangerous."

"Turning my back on her without making sure she was down would have been _more_ dangerous."

"And if you had killed her?"

I flinch, despite myself. "I didn't kick her _that_ hard."

"There's a narrow margin between minor head-trauma and irreparable brain damage." He doesn't let up, gesturing sharply to punctuate the point. "Something you should keep in mind, if you intend to continue working independently."

It's not like that's something I can argue. And maybe it _is_ something I need to take into consideration. I've already decided (realized) that I haven't been approaching these things properly.

My face burns beneath my mask, but I nod anyway. Take a second to gather myself again. "So...I knocked Night out, then moved to put some more rats on Oni Lee while he was fighting Fog." I pause, there, because Armsmaster looks ready to interrupt again...but he just presses his lips together in a flat line. Doesn't say anything. "He reacted...more quickly than I'd expected. He set off more grenades, I tried to avoid him, and we sort of bounced between the nearby rooftops and the...street."

Which is where the ABB thugs had been passed out. Which accounts for them. That's also where _Night_ had been.

"What happened to Night? Did she…?"

"She wasn't found with the rest of the bodies." Armsmaster nodded, slowly. "If she regained consciousness by or before that point, and if you weren't watching her, she'll have immediately transformed into her changer state and regained her mobility." He shifted his weight, armor clicking almost inaudibly. "She didn't reengage?"

I don't remember seeing her again. But I guess I did have bigger worries. "I wasn't on the street for very long. Just enough for Oni Lee to set of a couple of grenades."

"Then in all likelihood, she did escape with her partner."

Great.

"Right...well, that's how…" At least five ABB men had been killed. "...I got more rats on Oni Lee. Tried to put some distance between us, get back on the rooftops. And then he-" Faked me out. "He pretended to run. Doubled back, and...shot me, before I could react."

Armsmaster straightens, slightly, squaring his shoulders. "At which point, Velocity reached the scene and intervened."

"That's the end of it, yep."

"He also reported that you'd been stabbed, non-fatally, and shot three times, with one penetrating wound to your chest." I...don't know how to respond to that, really, so I offer a mute nod. "The fact that you armored your costume probably saved your life. Your connection with New Wave kept you from a long and painful recovery. I hope you understand that the results could have been much worse for you."

It hadn't exactly escaped my notice, no. "I did what I could with what I had." I narrow my eyes. "And I'm alive. So that's...something."

Armsmaster grunts, then shakes his head. "Your account lines up with what we know. Thank you for coming in." Without waiting for a reply, he reaches up to tap the side of his helmet. "If I could ask you to stay for a few moments, I would like to speak to you regarding other matters."

I hesitate. He takes the opportunity to continue. "I've stopped recording. If you'd prefer, I can tell you that the specifics of this talk will be…'off the record'."

Because that's a great incentive to stay and talk. 'Off the record' was rarely a _good_ thing. But at the same time...what am I supposed to do? Just walk out?

So I cross my arms, and settle back in my chair. Consider my words carefully. "What, exactly, do you want to talk to me about?"

"First, the fundraiser." Oh, _this_ conversation. "Shadow Stalker alleges that you attacked her while in Grue's darkness. The fact that you did, in fact, take one of her crossbows is evidence enough for the accusation to stick."

'The accusation'. _Sophia's_ accusations. Against _me_.

"You can tell _Shadow Stalker_ that if she didn't shoot blindly into a crowd of panicking people, I might not have had to take her toy away."

Armsmaster's hand curls, not quite a fist, but his frown doesn't get any worse than it already is. "If she _was_ firing at civilians...then your actions may have been justified. If excessive." A moment of silence. "You would earn some goodwill by returning the crossbow. It was issued to Shadow Stalker as part of the Wards Program, and keeping it for personal use could be construed as theft of government property. "

Victoria may complain about my mask, but I've definitely come to appreciate it. Because it means that I can _glare_ at Armsmaster all I like, so long as I keep my voice even. "I think I made my position on that point clear."

Another grunt. More quiet. I resist the urge to fidget in my seat for all of ten seconds, before giving up and pushing away from the table. "If there's nothing else, I'd like to get on with my day."

I'm halfway out of my chair before he speaks again. "You have a problem with Shadow Stalker."

I freeze.

"In the report that Aegis filed on your interactions, he noted that she was your given reason for not joining the Wards. Your brief...altercation, in the Forsberg Gallery, reinforces the animosity. And I know that Glory Girl has been investigating her, likely on your behalf."

 _Shit_. "You seem to 'know' so much." I swallow, clench my fists...enhance my vision as I look around the room. And the surrounding rooms. It looks like we're (mostly) alone. I could be out in that hallway in seconds, even without teleporting, and nothing would stop me. "And that really just makes me think you have to know that Shadow Stalker's a _psychopath_."

"She's had behavioral issues. Which is why she's under strict supervision-"

I can't help laughing bitterly, at that. " _Supervision_?" What a joke. "All that means...either you know how bad she is, and you're covering for her, or you're incompetent enough that she's able to avoid your 'strict supervision'." Which I guess shouldn't surprise me. The local Protectorate doesn't seem to have a good track record at stopping teenagers with superpowers…

"There are limits to what we'll do to invade the privacy of a Ward." Armsmaster's tone sharpens. "And despite your _opinion_ of her, she is a hero-"

"Sophia Hess is _not_ a hero!"

My hands hurt. My ears are ringing. I look down at the table, wince as I pull my hands away...the left is throbbing, painfully, which makes sense considering I hit the tabletop hard enough to leave a crack behind. A little dent. Must be a veneer or something-

What the fuck did I just say?

"...are you claiming that you know Shadow Stalker's civilian identity?"

I can't exactly say _no_ , can I? I _could_ just leave, right now. And probably burn the last of my bridges here, while I'm at it.

Anything I could say now... _fuck_. I just told _Armsmaster_ that I know who one of his Wards is, and anything I say now is...how hard would it be to figure me out? How hard could it be? If I say I recognized her, then it's not a leap to put us in the same school. Then...well, everything would fall apart, wouldn't it? Nothing to prove, conclusively, what she's done to me. My word against hers, but she's a Ward, and _I'm_ the one breaking the 'Unwritten Rules'.

And the alternative? That I found out some other way? The only good thing about that is that it might _not_ lead them back to me.

"Crow." It's not a shout, but I startle all the same. And I have to force myself not to shrink away as Armsmaster stands. "Answer the question."

"...I want to leave now."

"That isn't-"

"Are you going to keep me here?"

I guess...this is what you'd call a 'moment of truth'. I can almost see him, thinking it over. I know _I'm_ already thinking of the roof of the building. The _second_ he tries anything, I'm _gone_. The second I leave…

"Crow, I don't think you understand how serious your situation has just become."

"I understand just fine." My mouth feels dry, and the ache in my hand is getting worse, but I still, _somehow_ , manage to keep my voice steady. "Are you going to stop me from leaving?"

"Have you been trying to discover the identity of one of my Wards?"

 _His_ Wards. I grit my teeth, and start toward the door. He doesn't move.

"What is your connection to Coil?"

I stop, hand resting on the door's handle. Slowly, I turn my head, just enough to watch him. "...I don't _have_ any connection to Coil."

He turns, and I tense, but he doesn't move any closer. "Tattletale confessed to working for Coil under duress. Before we could question her more thoroughly, she suffered a psychotic episode, and became largely incoherent. Convenient for him, if she was telling the truth."

A psychotic...I can only remember. Tattletale, in a PRT cell. Terrified.

A PRT agent with a syringe.

'Psychotic episode.'

"I don't see what that has to do with me."

"You were the last person to be alone with her, before she was taken into custody. She showed signs of extreme stress, even with the tranquilizers in her system. And since her episode, she's referred to you several times. It's more than enough to raise the question, especially with the...assumption you just shared with me. Enough to justify taking you into custody, Crow."

My fingers tighten around the door handle, and I grit my teeth. "So is that what you're doing?"

"If you were the only one that was raising questions, then yes. That's exactly what I'd do." He pauses, mouth pulled into a tight line again. "Answer two questions."

God, what now? "What?"

"Do you intend to release any potentially damaging information relating to the Wards, Protectorate, or PRT as a whole?"

Fucking _bullshit_. Covering their asses, even with... "It's not like it would do me any good, is it?" He opens his mouth, and I cut him off. "No. I don't."

A tense moment passes, before he nods. "Do you have _any_ information regarding the individual Tattletale has referred to as 'the bonecarver'?"

I'm very, very aware of the charms, strung on their belt beneath my coat.

"No."

Another moment passes. I wait.

"That will be all then, Crow." He moves towards me, stops when I take a half step back. "I'll return you to the lobby."

I...don't really feel like spending any more time in this building.

"Just tell Glory Girl I'll wait for her across the street."

I don't wait for him to respond, before-

-teleporting out.

Fresh air. Wind. Noise.

I take a deep breath, and slump down to sit on the rooftop, pulling my knees to my chest as I fight down the urge to throw up.

 _Fuuuucck_.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

Victoria finds me a little later. I haven't moved. Mostly I've just been trying not to think about...anything. The pain in my hand is helpful, with that. From how tight my glove is, right now, it's swelling up pretty badly...the too-hot, restricted feeling pulses in time with my heartbeat. As far as distractions go, it's pretty effective.

"Hey, Crow." Right, Victoria. She's pretty distracting too, sometimes. "Armsmaster read you the riot act or something?"

"You...could say that." Oh, you could _definitely_ say that. I breathe, push myself up with my good hand, and start walking. I don't really stop to consider which direction I'm going, so long as it's away. "Come on."

"Uh, okay." I can feel her watching me; teleporting up a few stories, across the street, only breaks line of sight for a few seconds, and then she's beside me. "Jeeze, I knew this would be trouble the second they split us up. Miss Militia's pretty cool, but Armsmaster's got a Tinkertech stick up his ass."

I don't look back. Don't really need to. I know that we're still _way_ too close to the PRT building. Another rooftop. Further up. We're headed downtown, I guess…

Victoria catches up again quickly enough. This time, she moves in front of me, hovering backwards and watching me with a blurry frown. "Hey, seriously, what's with the silent treatment? You're kinda freaking me out." I try to keep going, but she drops, planting herself in front of me. "C'mon, what's wro-"

" _I fucked up_!" My voice is hoarse, and I hiss as pain shoots up my arm. Carefully uncurling the fingers on my left hand doesn't feel any better, and I bite out a curse. "I fucked up, okay?" And now I can't _see_...I yank my hood back with my good hand, tear off my mask so I can scrub away angry tears with the sleeve of my coat. "He started talking about _Shadow Stalker_ , started pushing about how I've got an 'issue' with her, and I just…" Exploded. Let anger get the better of me for _one_ fucking second. "He knows that I know who she is, now.

"...oh. Shit." Gravel crunches, and I can't look at her as she moves closer. "He...you settled it though, right? Like, he had you sign some papers or whatever, nondisclosure agreements…" When I shake my head, she sucks in a breath. "Okay, so...did you out yourself? I've heard of people doing that, but...if he made you tell him your identity, we should talk with my mom-"

I shoot her a glare. "I did _not_ out myself to the people who are supposed to be _monitoring_ Shadow Stalker."

She winces. "Okay, okay! But...I mean, what'd you do then?"

"Nothing."

"You told him that you know a Ward's civilian identity, and he just... _let you walk_?"

He might not have. He'd told me that. "I don't think that's the biggest worry on his mind right now." No, because there was apparently a lot of _other_ bullshit going on.

I swipe at my eyes again. This time when I dry them, they stay that way. I'm even getting my breathing under control, so I can talk without sounding like I'm about to break down _crying_. Because like _hell_ I'm going to do that. "You remember what we saw in the Void?"

"You mean the creepy mirror world?" It's my turn to wince, because there's a faint but undeniable note of accusation in the look she gives me. "Which part?"

"Tattletale. Being attacked by a PRT trooper."

She closes her eyes. "Please, tell me you're not serious."

I sniff, wipe my nose, and start pulling my mask back on. "According to Armsmaster, she told them she was being forced to work for Coil. Then before they could actually question her, she 'suffered a psychotic episode'."

"... _shit_."

"Yeah."

"So…" She pulls a face, reaches up to press a hand to her brow. "So either he was covering up for some kind of messed up PRT thing-"

"He also thought I might be connected to what happened."

"...putting aside _that_ tidbit for the moment, that means it's probably not that. Which is...God, probably not really much better. Because that means either what we saw was way off base - which, by the way, is what I'm _really_ hoping for - or this Coil guy managed to get someone _into_ the PRT to muzzle his pet Thinker before she could spill the beans."

Silence. I secure my mask, pull my hood up, Victoria chews her lip.

"I just...I don't even know anymore." She sighs. "Is that everything? I only ask 'cause it seems like there's always another horrible thing just waiting in the wings."

I hesitate.

She notices.

"Oh, _fuck you_ , Taylor!" I jerk back in surprise, because I don't think I've ever heard her...actually _mad_ before. "That was a _joke_!"

For a second, I just...I don't know what to do. But then the anger comes back, and I grit my teeth. Pressed forward to meet her glare. "I'm not exactly happy about the way my life has been going lately either, _Victoria_!"

A gust of wind catches my coat, Victoria's cape. There's another long moment of silence. She looks away first, turning on her heel and stalking toward the edge of the roof. " _Fuck_ , just tell me. Get it over with."

Fine. "He wanted to know if I knew anything about the Tinker. Because Tattletale talked about him too, at some point." 'The bonecarver'. Even the name sounds like a deranged serial-killer. "So that's another thing that he was trying to connect me to."

She turns back to me...and she's not glaring, anymore. I swallow, the anger cooling, settling heavily in my stomach. Because she looks _nervous. Tired._

"Is he wrong?"

There's a 'yes' on the tip of my tongue. But I can't quite bring myself to actually say it.

Victoria...doesn't deserve it.

"No." She closes her eyes, a muscle in her jaw tensing for a moment. "Not entirely."

"What the _fuck_ , Taylor…"

"I've been a shitty friend. You've helped me with all of this, and I've just been...I've been keeping secrets. And you say you're trying to trust me, and I _want_ you to be able to trust me, but I...I just…" No, there's no backing out now. I clench my fists, and the pain gives me _clarity_. "You're the first friend I've had in a year and a half, and I...I don't want to lose that."

Victoria's quiet, jaw working again for a moment. "Taylor...at this point? I'm thinking that if you don't have a good explanation for this shit, I'm going to wind up putting you in the hospital myself." The way she lifts, just slightly, off the ground...is suddenly, _alarmingly_ threatening. " _Please_...tell me you've got a good explanation."

I guess... _this_ is the moment of truth. In more ways than one.

"When I got out of the locker. I spent a week in the hospital. Recovering. And the night I got home...I had a _dream_..."

I tell the story. I explain myself, from start to finish. And when it's done, I stop, and I wait.

Victoria doesn't say anything..

When the silence stretches on, when I realize all I can really hear is the wind, I open my eyes again.

Victoria didn't say anything, because she's not here anymore.

And I think...I think I need to sit down again.


	32. Chapter 26

You would assume that I wouldn't have much trouble falling asleep, with how tired I am. But then, we make a lot of assumptions about the way things _should_ be, don't we? I know I do. Did. Assuming that my bullies would get tired of me and move on. Assuming the teachers, the faculty at Winslow, would actually do their jobs.

Assuming having powers would _fix_ things. Assuming that being a hero would finally prove to be my way out, and that being a hero actually _meant_ something more than...than whatever the hell Armsmaster and Shadow Stalker made it.

Assuming that Victoria would bother to stay, once she knew just how much I'd been hiding.

It just keeps circling in my head over and over again, all of it, and it refuses to _leave me be_. I've been lying in bed for most of the day now. And while I know I must have slept, at some point, it's been anything but restful.

Dad got home hours ago, and judging from the noises from downstairs, he must be getting ready for dinner...

I take a deep breath, as I hear him creaking up the stairs. And when my door opens, let it out easily. Just like when he came in to check on me earlier, I pretend to be asleep. Just like before, he seems to believe it. Just like before, he hesitates for a few seconds before slipping away again.

Another problem for the ever growing pile.

I _should_ go down there. Talk to him. _Eat_. My stomach feels like it's twisting in on itself, but I know part of it is just...hunger. Not surprising, considering I haven't eaten since last night. And the healing yesterday had to have taken it out of me.

But on the other hand, the idea of going down and pretending everything is fine seems exhausting. And I'm not sure how I'd explain my hand. The swelling isn't too obvious, but the bruises are. He would absolutely notice, and I doubt he'd react well.

I'm not in any kind of state to deal with that right now. So I'm not even going to pretend to try.

I stare at the ceiling, and listen. Plates clattering. Ice in a glass. The TV turns on. Sounds like a news channel. The predictable drone of it offers a decent distraction for a few minutes. But only that.

Which…

Dammit.

I slip out of bed, wince at the stiffness that's settled into my joints. Some careful (quiet) stretching works out the worst of it. I only bump my injured hand a couple of times. It's sad, but I think I'm starting to adjust to those little jolts of pain that come with it...maybe not a good thing. I'll have to get it looked at, at some point, but right now I'll just...do something else.

What else do I have to do?

I linger in front of my bookshelf, for a minute or two, but move on when I realize I'm just staring blankly at the books' spines. I guess I'm not up for reading, either. Studying is the next best thing to pointless, right now...TV isn't an option, and I probably wouldn't bother on a good day. Which leaves…

It doesn't leave much, does it?

I move to my closet. Digging through the pile of old clothes in the back corner is more difficult than expected, with only one hand. But I manage to retrieve my things with minimal effort, toss it all on my bed.

Including the Charms. And the Runes.

They're so _light_. That still gets me. Just holding one like this, I almost feel like I'm going to break it if I'm not careful.

' _Gather them, and you will reap great rewards.'_

I don't feel very rewarded. I'm not even sure what 'reward' would be worth people dying for these things. But I keep deciding they're worth keeping, don't I?

I turn the Rune, frown at the designs burnt into it. The dark black of the Outsider's 'Mark'. The carvings, sharp, radiating lines and circles. Symbols that seem like they should be familiar. Again, I'm reminded of faded drawings, old maps…

I set it down, and trace the ridges. The Tinker, the…'bonecarver', he must have put a lot of work into these things. Why? Why so much _effort_ if he couldn't even use them until he had my blood? There had to have been a reason; some kind of motivation.

Why blood? Why _bone_? These powers, the connections between them…

Connections. Our powers are connected, even if only distantly. He makes these Charms, and the Runes, the mirror. I _use_ them, and my blood can make them work.

I can _sense_ them.

...it's better than spending a sleepless night in my room.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

"In this city, when someone walks into your store, in costume, and doesn't immediately start shooting the place up or demanding protection money, you don't question it. When they actually pay for their things, you smile and say 'thank you'."

That's my lesson for the night from the old man working the counter at this little late-night shop. The bitterness in his voice as he told me that sticks with me, as I wander the rooftops looking for a place to eat. Another reminder of the way things have been. Because obviously that was what my night needed.

On another note, the cheap breakfast-bars and off-brand energy drink I picked up don't actually do anything to settle my stomach. But I feel less _hungry_ , and it does help with the headache that's been slowly building since I left home. Which is something, at least. Hopefully the aspirin will help a little more, once it kicks in.

With food out of the way and the cool, night wind clearing the worst of the fatigue from my head, I can work out how to approach this. Not that...there's not a lot of 'working out' involved, I guess. I've only really got the one theory.

My left hand is already bare, given the trouble I had trying to get the glove on earlier. And it already hurts like hell, so using the thin cardboard from the box my food had come in to open a cut across my knuckles barely registers. A sting, if that.

It gives me what I need; a little bit a blood, to smear over the Rune I'd brought with me.

 **[** _ **tArgETinG?**_ **]**

Nothing happens, of course. But then, nothing happened with those mirrors, either. Not until I brought my powers into the mix. So that's what I do next, as I clutch the Rune in my bruised and bleeding hand.

 **[** _ **QuErYing**_ **]**

I _feel_ it, then. Like an electric current running up my arm. Only it's more than just a _buzz_ , more than twitching muscles and humming bones. It's an impression of...potential? And the feeling of cold metal. The sound of an old dollar bill. Which is…

Really weird, actually. But not actually useful to me. So I keep pushing my power into the Rune, try to focus past my headache (which is already getting worse) and the way that humming feeling is starting to actually _vibrate_ enough to be visible. The whole point of this is to find _other_ Runes. Because I _know_ that that's something I can do. I've done it before, so I can do it again. Especially with this thing to help me…

I _know_ …

 **[** _ **LoCatIONs? eValuATing.**_ **]**

The Rune starts glow with a familiar not-light, and I swallow nervously as it starts to... _sing_. A distant, rushing sort of sound. Wind through creaking boards. Waves on bare metal…

 **[** _ **acTivATion. CoNNectiOns EsTAbliShed.**_ **]**

I flinch, violently, as the Rune cracks down the middle, and just barely drop it before it starts to burn. It never hits the ground, though. By the time it should have, the wind has blown the ash away. Not even the metal fixtures are left.

And I…

For a second, I just have to _stare_ , because...did I just _break_ the damn thing? Destroy it? I was so sure...but if I'd made a mistake, if I'd screwed something up, then...did I just waste my chance to make up for…I feel bile, rising in my throat, close my eyes as I try to _breathe_.

But before I can fall too far into self-incrimination, I realize that that song...isn't quite gone. And neither is the _buzzing_ in my hand. I open my eyes again, flex my fingers as gingerly as possible. When I turn...the feeling shifts to adjust.

One, _that_ way. Two more, _that_ way. A fourth, a fifth...even more, in that direction, enough faint _noise_ overlapping that I can't put a number to it.

Runes?

This isn't like before. I was half expecting that, if this _did_ work, it would be...a daze, a pull that I couldn't ignore. This? It's...directed. Almost focused.

Is it because I used the Rune? Or just because I'm the one that's 'reaching out'? Either way, I've found what I needed.

Maybe. I guess I don't know whether they _are_ Runes yet. And there's really only one way to find out.

The group of possibly-Runes is off in the direction of the Trainyards. Since I could probably expect the Tinker to be stockpiling the damn things, that's a good lead...but maybe not where I should go right now.

No, I'll start with one of the ones that's isolated. As far away from the others as possible.

I guess I'm headed for the Docks.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

The building that I'm eventually drawn to isn't anything special; an old tenement, all stained brick and crumbling mortar. Circling it a couple of times is enough to get a better idea of the Rune's exact location. Jumping off the roof gets me the right floor.

So I put myself inside.

The fluorescent lighting overhead is only half-functional, and what _is_ powered flickers sporadically. The hall is filthy, what has to be years of neglect clinging to almost every surface.

There's an open doorway ahead. An empty frame, not an 'open' door...I enhance my vision, just to check, but _that_ particular room is empty, right now. It also looks like most of the people on this floor are asleep. So I guess I don't need to be too concerned with stealth.

The buzzing in my hand only gets worse, as I move down the hall. And the _noise_ is clear enough to be distracting, now...it takes all of thirty seconds to find the right apartment. Nobody inside, the door doesn't budge, but neither of those things are important.

I focus, picture empty space just past the door-

-and move. Just in time for my vision to go out and leave me in complete darkness.

"Great." I sigh, start forward...and stop again a second later, planting a hand against the wall as I _gag_. What the hell is that _smell_?

I swallow, cough, gag again. Regain control, and finally blink away the darkness so I can actually investigate.

It's not a difficult 'investigation'. The bloated, maggot-eaten body slumped in front of the makeshift _altar_ is kind of hard to miss, after all.

"Fuck." A corpse. Of _course_ it's a corpse. With buzzing flies and a rotting _stink_ , sitting _right_ in front of the Rune I'd come to find.

I close my eyes, breathe through my mouth, and try not to...to overthink. Because there's nothing I can do about a dead body. The most I'd be _able_ to do is call it in, and even then only if I'd thought to bring my phone with me. But of course I hadn't, so I couldn't…

" _Fuck_." Okay. I need to get out of here. Immediately. Which means getting what I came here for.

I open my eyes, take another deep breath, and force myself forward. I cross the distance in maybe four steps, edge around the _body_ , ignore the flies as they buzz around me. It gets a little easier to do, as the Rune gets _louder_ and more _insistent_. For a moment, as I'm reaching down to grab it, it feels like the rest of the world is drowned out in rushing sound and electric _sensation_...and then it all drops away at once, leaving me feeling like I've gone deaf, and numb.

And _oh god I think I touched it_. I flinch away, or try to, but that only sends it flopping to the floor with a wet _squelch_. The smell gets about twenty times worse, and I barely remember to take the Rune with me as I-

-teleport to the rooftop. My stomach churns, my breathing goes shallow, and I claw my mask off without hesitation.

I retch. Shake. Drop the rune to press my hand against my face; the leather of my glove feels cooler than it should, but it helps. A couple of deep breaths later, I don't even feel like I'm going to throw up anymore...but _dammit_ , what the fuck?

Another Rune, and another fucking horrible experience to go with it. It's not enough that these things are _made_ out of people, but now…I bend down to pick it up again, turn it over a couple of times. It's not 'singing' anymore, not humming or vibrating. Just a creepy piece of carved bone...that I don't want to be looking at anymore.

I shove it in a coat pocket, pick up my mask, and turn toward the next distant _hum_.

Downtown.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

I don't have to backtrack too far before I realize I need to adjust my course. Skirting along the blurry 'edge' between the Docks and Downtown takes no effort, especially when I'm not actively looking for trouble. Before long I'm perched on the edge of a building, looking over a construction site across the street.

It's dark, quiet; the only people on the site are the half-dozen night watchmen walking the fences in pairs. I consider them, for a little while, but it doesn't feel like any of _them_ are carrying it. So eventually, I stand, step off the building-

-and onto an exposed I-beam on the same level.

The Rune's below me, somewhere. Narrows things down a bit.

Moving through the skeleton of the building is an interesting experience, on its own. Plenty of places to stop, easy ways down that doesn't just involve jumping. I pause, at every level, to recover and check that I'm on the right track. By the time I reach the far corner of the building, I'm right above it.

When I hit the dirt and still feel it _below_...I'm not sure what to do, about it.

"Okay…" Dirt. More dirt. Concrete. There are a few areas that are dug down another story, but nothing that would lead any further toward the Rune. It also gives me the distinct impression that it's even further down than that, which is...what does that mean? Who would _bury_ something like that twenty feet down?

I head up again, do another circuit of the construction site to see if I'm missing anything. Then I do it again, with my vision enhanced.

Still nothing. And since I'm not about to start _digging_ for this thing, sticking around isn't worth the time.

I move back to my perch across the street, brush myself down...I could check some of the others. But I've already confirmed that this feeling _is_ guiding me to the Runes, and I know I'm not going to zone out the second I get close to them. So there's no real point in waiting.

I'll go to the Trainyards, and I'll find the Tinker's newest hideout.

After that...I'll just have to play things by ear.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

It's an old warehouse, of course. I don't know why I would have expected anything else.

Another thing I didn't expect was the guard sitting just inside the main door. Or the armed man on the roof. It makes snooping more difficult, having to work around actual _people_ watching.

I'd wonder when the hell this guy picked up _henchmen_ , but that's not actually important. What _is_ important is that the Tinker now has _guys with guns_.

Luckily, I'll only have to deal with one of them, if I want to get inside. Considering he's just sitting there, it shouldn't be hard to do.

I appear by the wall nearest the door, edging along out of sight of the man on the rooftop. Nobody else watching me, no signs of other occupants, so I stop by the door and pull out a baton. Take a second to expand it _quietly_.

This would probably be easier with those tranquilizers I took, but...I'll just have to make do. It shouldn't be that hard. I've done this before, after all.

Right.

I take a deep breath, and a second to prepare myself. I'm going to have to _make this quick._

 _I grip the baton in my good hand, square off, and raise my arm-_

 _-before bringing it down on the man in the chair._

 _It catches the rifle in his hands, but he doesn't lose his grip. A moment later, his leg comes up, and a heavy boot bends my knee the wrong way._

 _Pain. The gun comes up. A flash of light-_

And my back hits the brick, coat bunching up as I slide down to the sidewalk.

 _Oww._

Okay, so. Not so quick, or easy. I swallow, shiver at the phantom pains, and consider my options. Obviously, this guy isn't just kicking back and passing the time. He reacted _way_ too quickly for that. Were they expecting trouble? Expecting _me_? The ABB had managed to counter me once they realized I was teleporting, thanks to their familiarity with Oni Lee. If the Tinker told _these_ guys about me…

Well, it's not like teleportation is my only trick.

I move to push myself to my feet (and bite down a sharp curse as I try to use my _bad_ hand to do it), manage to get up and shuffle back a few steps. Away from the door. Because this wall isn't _that_ thick. So there's nothing stopping me from just...summoning a swarm of rats on the other side.

Power rushes out of me, and I smile, despite myself. And a few moments later, I take control.

It isn't as dark inside as I was expecting. The rats can't make out much in the way of detail, but they can definitely see the _light_. Hear a steady rumbling noise that sounds like an idling engine. Smell something sharp and chemical, something that makes them think _food_...and they can tell that there's something breathing on the other side of the partition they're milling behind.

That would be the guard.

Above me, at the same time, I identify a group of mosquitoes being drawn to a beacon of heat in the cool night. That's the _other_ guard...and I should probably be ready to deal with him too, shouldn't I? That's...that's probably smart. Flies and mosquitoes were enough of a distraction for Oni Lee, and there are plenty of those in my range. They'll work here just as well.

While I'm gathering _them_ up, my rats are moving, a couple splitting off from the main group to 'scout' ahead. Only a few feet ahead, they find the edge of the partition, more light...and the dark blob over there is _definitely_ the guard.

Annoying. If I could put a little more distance between him and the rats, I'd have a much better angle for their approach. As it is, it looks like there's a lot of open space they'd have to cover just to get around. Either way, they'll be spotted, so it'll probably just be better to rush him.

And since there's no time like the present…

Two dozen rats aren't particularly quiet, when they're charging across a bare floor. He notices before they can cover more than half the distance, but before he can actually _react_ , I've got the lead rats jumping him and immediately doing everything in their power to attach themselves.

His gun goes off, before the rest of the swarm can reach him and force him to drop it. Above me, I feel the second guard turn...and I probably should have waited until I had enough bugs gathered to actually do something more than annoy him.

... _shit_.

Well, at least _he's_ on the roof. Even if he knew exactly where I was, it would take him too long to reach me. The guy inside, on the other hand, is very nearly disabled; stumbling, flailing, trying to throw my rats off as they scratch and bite. Trying to reach his weapon as they drag it across the floor.

When I appear behind him, he doesn't have a chance to react. I don't give him one, either, rats digging _hard_ as I swing my baton into the back of his leg. When he drops to his knees, I push forward, throwing myself against him and driving him to the floor.

I'm standing again a moment later, on his other side, and when he tries to push himself up, I kick him in the head.

...which isn't...that's not 'being more careful', is it?

I call off my rats, as he hits the floor...and I _would_ have stopped to check on him, if it weren't for the fact that the guy on the roof was moving toward what I _think_ is a fire escape, despite the sparse swarm of flying bugs I gather to delay him. I should probably deal with him sooner than later... _this_ time I'll be more careful.

Yeah.

My rats won't last much longer, but I don't really need them to; the ones closest to me move, leaping and scurrying to cling to my coat. And then, before the guy on the roof can start making his way down-

-I appear above him, dropping a few feet before catching myself with my arms around his neck. Between the added weight and my momentum, he loses his balance entirely, cursing sharply as he stumbles forward…

Over the edge of the building.

I cut our fall as short as possible, teleporting us almost directly to the pavement in the alley below. I still hear something _crack_ as we land, and when I roll away from the guy he gives a breathless, pained cry.

I...obviously need to work on 'careful'. _Fuck._

My rats vanish, before I can consider making use of them. I lose control of my bugs a few moments later. I briefly consider calling up some more, but...no point, now.

The guy groans as I turn him over, grits his teeth against another noise of pain as I yank his rifle away from him. I move to throw it in the nearest dumpster, eye him for a second...it doesn't _look_ like he's going anywhere. And I don't really intend to stick around.

I turn away-

-and step past his friend inside.

I've got a lair to wreck, after all.

The Runes draw my attention first, of course. While that little scuffle had been pretty distracting, now that it was over...being this close to so many of them is electric. A few more steps toward the _chorus_ of them almost makes me feel like my teeth should be rattling.

It's a lock-box. One of those big, fire-safe ones. But the lock doesn't actually stand up very well to my baton, and before long I'm prying it open. With every Rune I pull out, the sound, the _sensation_ , declines, until finally all that's left are the ones still in the distance.

They seem almost unreal, spread out on the floor in front of me. Like some kind of macabre jewelry-stand display. Sixteen Runes. _Sixteen_. How many _people_ -?

I don't have enough room in my pockets, but I can string the rest on a belt. I can't do anything about what was done to make them, but I can make sure that the Tinker can't use them for anything. And now that I've got them...

Well, I see plenty of tools, in here. Work tables. Half-built _things_. Notes, scattered papers. There's a generator chugging away in a far corner of the building, blocked off by another set of partitions; I guess that's how he's lighting the place.

No sign that he's actually staying here, not like the last place. Which means this is some kind of, what? Dedicated workshop? Between that and the henches, it seems like he's moving up…

There are a couple of Charms, in another blocked-off area. Sitting on a work table...beside some of the bones used to make them. Those are practically whole. Yellowed.

Specks of blood crush the table's surface. Drops trail across the floor, toward a suspiciously _clean_ set of _saws_. And a chest freezer, humming quietly in the corner of the 'room'.

I don't really need to look inside to guess what I'd find. I do anyway.

I don't appreciate being right.

Nothing I can do about it. It's _way_ too late for that.

What I _can_ do is tuck the charms away with the rest of the things I'm leaving with. Take a hammer to the Tinker's work. Break his tools. Use some of the gas set aside for the generator to turn his notes into a miniature bonfire. Spread it a little further to set what's left of his workshop on fire, too.

The guard that had been watching the door has a phone, on him. It's locked, but can still make emergency calls. So I report the fire, as I teleport him into the alleyway with his friend.

Then...then I run.


	33. Chapter 27

The good news: I managed to sleep for a few more hours. _Actual_ sleep. And while I might have woken up from a dream full of disembodied _parts_ and more bleeding bones than I would normally prefer...my headache is mostly gone. Plus, dad's already gone to work. So I can go down and reheat the breakfast he left me without having to explain my hand.

The bad news: that's a temporary reprieve, at best. And reflecting on my situation over a plate full of leftovers is almost enough to bring the headache back with a vengeance. It _is_ enough to kill my appetite, which...kind of sucks.

In the past two days, I managed to potentially bring Armsmaster down on my head, fucked up my first friendship in two years, and went out of my way to piss off a murderous Tinker by burning down his workshop.

Oh, and I died during the last thing. Which...should really bother me more than it does, but doesn't actually seem relevant right now.

God, what am I going to do about Victoria?

The short answer, the _easy_ answer, is 'nothing'. After all, she made her position on things pretty clear. And...it isn't like she wasn't justified in leaving like that. I've done enough, at this point...at this point maybe it'd be better if that was the end of it. Leave well enough alone.

It sucks. It hurts...a _surprising_ amount. But with the way things are, it _is_ probably for the best. It feels like everything is spiraling out of control, and I shouldn't want to drag her into it any more than I already have.

I'm keeping the phone, though. And keeping it on me, because going out without it last night was probably stupid, and I need to stop _acting_ stupid. This whole thing…

Ugh.

My next problem (the most immediate one, anyway) is what the hell I'm going to do with all of the stuff I pulled out of the Tinker's workshop.

I clear off my desk to lay them all out. Sixteen runes from the workshop, seventeen with the one from the body I'd found. There are at least four more out there, still buzzing away at the edge of my perception. And the pair of Charms, on top of all that…

Victoria would have thrown them away (she _did_ , the first time), but I'm not sure I can bring myself to do that. Putting aside that I was able to use one of the Runes to find more of them...could I do the same for the Charms? Maybe I'd be able to find the Tinker himself, then. He's got to be carrying at least one.

And if that didn't work...would they be useful as any kind of evidence? If I could prove who made them maybe. It'd give someone an idea of how many people this guy has killed, anyway.

But then, so would the _dead bodies_ he's been leaving behind. So…

So no, that's another stupid idea.

I pick up a Rune, then another. Similar, but not identical. Obviously hand-made, like I couldn't have guessed that at any point. Still nothing about them that might indicate that they're anything other than vaguely disturbing knick-knacks...and I'm just _sitting_ here and staring at them. Like they weren't cut out of a _person_. Like-

Pain lances up my arm, and I loosen my grip, setting down the rune I'd been holding ( _clutching_ ) in my left hand. The dull, steady throb that I've been ignoring hits me again in full, and I grit my teeth. Try not to move it anymore, just for a little bit. It's gotten worse, I think, which can only mean bad things...I think of Amy, and how easily she'd just wipe the pain away, and somehow that manages to make me feel worse than before. I wouldn't have made it nearly as far as I have, if it wasn't for her healing, and...I thanked her, I know I did, but words don't really mean much, do they?

I got used to it pretty quickly. Not having to worry about injuries any more than I've worried about _death_ lately. But there's a reason I was so insistent on using that Charm, why I went back to it even after all of this; I'm no Brute. Bullets don't bounce off my skin, and I can't just take a hit and keep going like it's nothing. And as _irritating_ as the pain is, as much as I just want it to _stop_ , maybe it's a good-

The Rune in my right hand _cracks_ suddenly, and I drop it reflexively. Watch, wide-eyed, as it burns away to ash, metal and all...along with two more, beside it.

The pain...doesn't vanish. But it's muted, somehow. I know it hurts, I can _feel_ something like discomfort, but it's not...important? Or...it's not quite pain anymore. And when I hold it up, out, when I flex my fingers and clench my fist, the feeling doesn't change.

"What the _fuck_?"

 ** _[EnHAncE. sUsTAin.]_**

I swallow, and stand away from the desk, eyeing the remaining Runes a little warily. Because that…

Last night. Last night, I used that Rune to track the rest. And I can still feel them, the ones I haven't already taken. This...I wanted the pain gone, and now this? Only this time...no blood, no _power_. I wasn't even touching two of them. Why... _how_? What's different?

 ** _[deVeLoPmenT.]_**

I wince, press a hand to my head. **[** Behind me, I feel sOmeThing withdrawing. **]**

This...this whole thing is just…

I shake my head, and go to my closet for...something. Sheet? A spare sheet, and a pillowcase. I'm very careful _not_ to touch any more Runes, folding them all into the sheet before shoving the whole thing in the pillowcase. That, I take it to the basement, and shove it all into the most out of the way corner I can find.

I'm going to get on with my day now. Whatever that might entail.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

In the end, it mostly involves staring at the TV and trying not to think about...anything. I get mixed results, there...try to give it up sometime around lunch, only to wind up back on the couch. At some point I almost doze off.

And then Dad comes home, and I have to pretend that everything's going fine. When he asks how my day went, I smile and honestly say that nothing much happened. When he asks about Victoria, I _smile_ and tell him I didn't feel like going out today.

When he _doesn't_ ask about my hand, I do my best not to freak out in front of him. _Don't_ worry about the fact that the swelling, bruises, and 'pain' are all gone.

Dinner is...stilted, and quiet. A couple of times, he tries to strike up a conversation, but it doesn't stick. I try myself, once, but can't really bring myself to follow through.

I retreat to my room. He retreats to his paperwork.

Just...just another night in the Hebert household.

(And how did I not notice how bad it's gotten, before…?)

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

It's a cool night. The wind, as it hisses across the rooftops, has just enough bite for me to feel it through the thinner parts of my costume.

In the alley below me, huddled up in a tattered jacket, the man I've been watching for the better part of ten minutes is shivering for reasons I'm pretty sure have nothing to do with the chill.

" _Fuck_ , man, I'm tellin' you-"

"I swear to fucking god, Lenny, if you don't _shut the fuck up_ I'm gonna _set you on fire_."

I would feel a little more sorry for 'Lenny', if I hadn't seen him passing out drugs to kids who couldn't be any older than I am. As it is, I keep _watching_ him. And pointedly _avoid_ watching his partner for the night.

"You're _seriously_ not gettin' the fucking creeps hanging around this shithole in the middle of the fucking night?"

Lenny's partner snorts, hacks, and spits on the ground. With my vision enhanced like this, I can _just_ make out a splotch of something dark against the alley floor. "Are you _fucking high_ tonight? It's the same goddamn spot as every other night…"

"Yeah, and most nights we're not _bein' watched_!"

" _Nobody's watchin' us you dense motherfucker!"_

What follows is an argument that involves way more creative language than I'm entirely comfortable with...and actually, it circles all the way back around from 'horrific' to 'absurd' pretty quickly. For the first time tonight, I find myself smiling beneath my mask.

I hadn't really had a plan, when I came out here. Wander aimlessly. Find trouble. Put a stop to it, and maybe figure out these new Charms in the process.

I've managed most of that much, so far. Mostly because apparently you can't throw a stone in Brockton Bay without running into some kind of shitty situation, but also...well, luck. Luck, a talkative gangster, and a poorly timed gust of wind that _should_ have sent me falling to my death (but didn't).

I lean back from the edge of the roof, take a minute to work out the stiffness in my neck...when I return to my post, catch sight of Lenny again, he immediately tenses, looking around uncertainly. " _Shit_."

"Don't even start."

A few more muttered curses, before they settle into silence again.

It's an interesting effect. And despite my irritation at the first (and second...and third) failed ambush, I'm starting to see the utility of a Charm that makes sure the bad guys know I'm watching them. Maybe not something I'd want to use all the time, but...well, if nothing else, the results are _satisfying_.

...which probably isn't a good mindset to approach this stuff with.

Good mood soured again...I stand, and creep along the ledge until I have a solid angle on both of them at the same time.

The gruff voice, Lenny's partner, looks about as sleazy as he sounded. And by the time I've actually made that assessment, he's gone for the gun in his waistband and started looking around like he's expecting someone to jump out at him. "The fuck…?"

Lenny perks up immediately, pointing an accusing finger. "I knew it! You feel it too, man! You fucking asshole, I _told you_ -"

" _Shut. Up."_

"No, no way, I was right. Somethin' ain't right here-"

The other guy pulls his gun, and I tense despite myself. "One more word, asshole! See what happens!"

Silence. The tension builds peaks...before gun-guy finally lowers the weapon. "Shit, whatever. Doesn't look like anyone else is gonna show up tonight. Let's just get out of here."

"What if somebody's followin' us?"

Gun-guy looks about ready to shoot Lenny again, and again, I get ready to...intervene, I guess. But, _again_ , nothing happens. "Then, I dunno...we split up. Ditch the fucker, then meet up at the spot."

"...which spot?"

"Are you...are you fucking serious? _The_ spot."

"There's fucking a dozen 'spots' around here!"

" _The fucking spot on 25th!_ Where we just _fucking came from_!"

"I thought that was 'the place'...?"

Silent disbelief from gun-guy. I can (unfortunately) empathize.

 _These_ are the people that the police have so much trouble putting away? I just…

"Lenny? Stop talking, and just...just fucking walk before I shoot you in the face. A lot."

I watch them, as they make their way out of the alley. And, after thinking it over, I let them go. Because, apparently, there's a 'spot' not far from here.

That sounds like something a little more interesting than a couple of street level dealers.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

Watching people through obstructions doesn't seem to alert them to the fact, which, on reflection, is probably a good thing. It means that I can let the two morons relax a bit as they lead me to what looks like a hideout. And it means when I do settle on the rooftop, I _don't_ immediately alert the people inside to the fact that someone's here.

Four floors. At least a dozen people scattered around the top two...a few of them are splayed out, one or two seem like they're just on the floor. The rest don't seem to be paying them that much attention.

I walk the perimeter of the building to get a good feel for the place, stop and crouch above the alleyway that runs behind it. Seems clear...one door at street level. Considering my last attempt at attacking a gang headquarters ended when everyone decided to clear out, maybe I should do something about that.

Or maybe I should use the cellphone I brought with me to...call who? The police? There aren't any Capes involved, so the PRT is out. Victoria…?

Why am I even bothering?

...because I'm already here, I guess. And because I'd rather be out here _doing_ something than struggling to sleep at home.

I'm going to have to figure this stuff out, at some point. But right now...right now I'm just going to get this done.

That's a good plan. First order of business. Block that exit.

I teleport down to get a closer look. Nobody _near_ the door; it's locked, obviously from the inside. Blocking it off...well, there _is_ a dumpster right over there. Too heavy to push...but I don't necessarily _have_ to push it into place, do I?

I know I can 'port at least four people. So I should be able to teleport a dumpster, right?

As it turns out, no, _not_ right. Multiple attempts leave it no closer to the door than before. Improvising with a couple of plastic trash-cans...it's just not the same. But it might be effective, which I guess is the important part.

Potential exit taken care of. Now, back up to the roof. There's no real patterns in the way the people are moving, inside, but nobody looks like they're standing guard or anything, either. I don't know if it would change anything if there _were_ guards, but it's good to know that there _aren't_ any.

And it's not like I have any grand plans, anyway. I've got about one strategy. Another thing to work on, I decide as I flick my baton out to its full length.

Inside, just below me, a man passes by. And in an instant-

-I'm behind him. Dim light. The stink of unwashed bodies. Smoke curling in the air as bloodshot eyes widen. Before anyone can react, I move again, taking my baton in both hands and looping my arms over my target's head. The metal digs into his throat as I _pull_ him off his feet-

-and I twist as I fall, dropping us both on our sides.

But _I'm_ not startled and disoriented; hell, I barely felt the impact beyond a dull not-pain in my shoulder and ribs. So while he's trying to pull himself together enough to react, I'm getting to my feet and...well, I actually just kick him in the back a couple of times, and stomp on his shoulder when he tries to roll over.

There's a wet _crackle_. He screams. Below, his friends' panic ratchets up another notch.

I pointedly don't hit this guy in the head. He'll...run out of breath eventually. And I don't think he's going anywhere, anyway.

I'm on the other side of the roof a moment later, and I watch as a few stragglers rush into the room I'd pulled this guy out of. Before the last of them can catch up (and, more importantly, before he can enter their line of sight) I crouch-

-and lash out at his ankle, catching a handful of stained denim in a death-grip before _yanking_ -

-as I bring us back up. His weight comes down on a foot that isn't touching the ground, and he doesn't have the time to get his arms up before he hits the head bounces, blood spurts, and he howls in pain, rolling onto his side and trying to cover his bleeding nose.

That's two.

I'm below again. No time to screw around, no time to reconsider. I waited, last time, and look how _that_ turned out. This time, I'll keep up the pressure, the momentum. I won't give them a chance to do anything but react.

There are eight people gathered in the room ahead of me, and two more that still haven't bothered to move from where they're laid out. I think I can safely ignore them, for the moment...there are a few milling around on the floors below, though, and I can't ignore _them_ quite so easily.

Something like fourteen, all told, and that's not counting the two I've already put down. Or whoever might be on the ground floor…

I need to...split them up. Get them moving.

Also, I should probably take care of the _front_ door. Dammit.

My vision finally goes out, but I don't bother to refresh it yet, 'porting down to the street out front. A moment to recover…

The entrance is clear, at the moment. At least five guys on this level, only a couple of them visibly reacting to anything happening above. Inside-

-is a poorly lit hallway, liberally strewn with cans, bottles... _literal_ garbage, in places. Things I probably shouldn't walk on if I want to maintain stealth. A glance back at the door...I can't think of a way to block it. Maybe if I broke the handle off? If it _stayed_ shut, then it wouldn't be easy to open again...but I don't know that it would work, for sure. I'll come back to that. For the moment, though-

"Fuck, _fuck_ , I knew it, I _knew_ it'd follow us, what did I tell you, _fucking fuck_ -!"

That would be Lenny. My guess is that he's the twitchy one, edging toward...yeah, those are the stairs. Good to know.

"Shut up man, seriously. We don't know _shit_. Could just be...something else."

Lenny's partner. _He_ doesn't sound too confident. It'd be funny, if these guys weren't complete scumbags.

I'm getting distracted, though. Without stopping to second-guess myself, I turn, lift my baton, and bring it down on the handle of the door behind me. It breaks, sticking down at an angle...a quick turn, a quick tug, a push...the door stays closed. And I'm outside again, before anyone can move to investigate.

No easy way out, now.

Back to work.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

Crouching on the outside wall of the building, peering 'down' into the window at my feet as the gangsters inside creep nervously down the hallway...I actually start to think this night _might_ be worth the effort.

For instance: I figured out more about what the second Charm does. I'd had my suspicions earlier, when I'd teleported to the edge of the building just in time to get blasted by a gust of wind. When I _hadn't_ been immediately thrown off my feet, I'd stumbled back to safety...and yeah, I'd chalked it up to the Charm. I'd figured maybe it was some kind of defensive thing, another passive safety net.

When I'd accidentally stuck myself to the railing of the fire-escape five minutes ago, I'd realized I was wrong about that. Less 'safety net' and more…'stick the landing'.

Which leaves me here, casually defying gravity.

I'm not even going to question it, at this point.

The group I've been watching finally turns a corner, and the guy in the lead freezes as he steps into my _actual_ line of sight. The ones following him do the same. I let them stew like that, for a few seconds-

-then abandon my observation to return to the roof.

The ten men (and two very _mean_ women) that I've already taken care of are still here, still in various states of discomfort. Still bound together, wrist to ankle, by whatever I was able to lay my hands on. A couple of those that are actually facing me flinch as I appear. Others glare.

And that's fine. I don't really _care_ whether they're angry or not.

Besides, even those guys start looking nervous when rats swarm out of my coat.

"First person to tell me where the building's electrical panel is _doesn't_ get a new friend to play with."

The rats chitter loudly. And a few seconds later, I'm headed for the basement.

It's not actually hard to find the thing. I just hadn't been up for exploring. I waste no time in flicking each breaker off, the steady _clack-clack-clack_ echoing in the quiet. Once it's all done, I drop off a few rats, refresh my vision, and head back up to where I left the 'brave defenders'.

I find them in the same hallway I'd left them in. Huddled together around a glowing smart-phone. The second they're in my sight, there are a few _embarrassing_ screams, and one of them actually fires a shot toward the nearest shadow before one of his friends can force his arm down.

They're jumpy. They're scared. And when I send a rat down the hall a little ways to mess with the garbage there, they aren't paying attention to the guy at the back of their huddle.

He's standing on the roof a second later. And, after another few seconds, I've driven the breath out of him and forced him to the gravel, digging a knee into his back as I put him in line with the rest.

When I return to the group, it's just in time for them to realize they're down a member.

They're _not_ having a good time.

This isn't what I imagined being a hero would be like.

I sigh, as I walk down the empty hallway, not bothering to hide my footsteps, or to avoid the garbage everywhere. There's only one of them left, by now. Either that, or my count was off. And either way, there's not much point in sneaking.

Not much point in acting like this isn't...stupid. And, in the long-term, meaningless.

Being a hero is supposed to be good, isn't it? It _was_ supposed to be 'getting out' and 'doing something'. It was supposed to be 'making a difference'. Being a hero...was supposed to be my out. Relief. It was supposed to make me feel _better_.

This? This doesn't feel like much of anything. I beat up some bad guys. I'll probably call the police, once I'm done, and they may or may not actually do anything about it.

I push another door open, glance around. Nothing that looks useful, nothing worth taking with me...but I did just get close enough to the straggler to spot him, cowering somewhere on the floor below. Back to the stairs, then…

It doesn't take me long to find him. And when I finally get close enough to hear the constant stream of muttered curses, I have to shake my head. This just isn't his night...

He freezes, as I teleport in so that I'm standing on the ceiling behind him. With a flashlight and a handgun trained on the room's only door, he shudders. Let's out another, breathless curse. Slowly, carefully, he starts to back away from the door. Towards _me_.

"Hey Lenny."

He whirls to face me. I can't make out much of his expression, with the way his eyes burn so brightly in the false light, but I can imagine it's not a pretty picture.

His back hits the wall. The gun falls from nerveless fingers. He curses, and pleads, and slides down until he's just sitting and staring.

I sigh again. Take half a step, and _twist_ as the effect holding me in place ends. I _aim_ to land in a crouch, but it's a little rougher than intended; I don't think it was noticeable, but my knee would definitely not have appreciated that move a day ago.

Lenny's crying, as I stand up. There's something really disturbing about seeing a grown man cry.

"Stay here, Lenny."

He sobs, and nods, and I waste no time in teleporting outside. Taking a seat on that dumpster I couldn't move, so I can take a load off while I call the police. Nothing to _lose_ on that, after all. Maybe they'll find something incriminating in the building somewhere, I don't know.

With all that done...I leave. A little more tired, in need of a long shower, and I'll _probably_ want to wash my coat, at the very least…

This... _wasn't_ nothing. Even if it doesn't feel like I did much, I still _did_ something.

"That's important." It's a whisper, a reassurance. Maybe it's a little stupid, trying to reassure _myself_ , but-

Two streets over, a roiling cloud of _black_ is pouring out of an alleyway. I haven't made it five blocks.

I guess the night isn't over yet?

"No shit."

I feel uncomfortably _alone_ , as I start towards the darkness.


	34. Chapter 28

What do I know about Grue?

Not much, all things considered. His powers, costume, things like that. I know he can see and move well enough in his own darkness to fight effectively. That he was, nominally, the leader of the Undersiders. Who were, in some way, connected to Coil.

Running into him like this is most likely just coincidence. Tattletale was the Thinker of the team, and without her I think I'm justified in assuming he wouldn't have known I was out here. So, assuming the _city block_ worth of alleyways that are blacked out aren't anything to do with me, that means something else is going on.

Am I going to get involved?

Well, I took down two of the four already. And...I'd be lying if I said there wasn't some lingering resentment over the way they'd tried to play me. So yeah. Why not?

The darkness disappears, to my sight. I see people in the building below me (asleep, unaware), but nobody in the alley. Moving on, I see...nothing. More nothing. I focus on the next building over, hoping to get a better view-

-and feel eyes on me the moment I appear.

I don't stop to think. I just throw myself forward, into the black fog below. The moment I hit it, it's like I've gone deaf...the expected resistance _doesn't_ slow my fall at all, so I 'port again-

-to land, just a little too heavily, on the asphalt below.

Nobody watching me, now...I look up, narrow my eyes at the emptiness above me. I don't trust it for a moment. The last couple of times somebody was watching me on the rooftops, I got _stabbed_. Not something I want to repeat, today.

Never thought I'd be grateful that I'd stumbled across a villain, but I guess this darkness _is_ pretty handy. I could probably break off now without being followed. Just in case.

Of course, that would mean leaving Grue here to get up to who knows what. Which probably isn't something I should do, is it?

On the positive side of things, it's shouldn't be too difficult finding him, at this level. And maybe whoever _was_ watching me will just get bored and leave.

...yeah, I should be so lucky.

I start walking. Moving away from the area I'd already 'searched'. And, as expected, it takes maybe half a minute to finally spot him. Really, there's not much 'hiding' in an alley like this, once you take the darkness out of the equation. Close confines, only two directions to run, minimal cover. I wonder, for a second, why he hasn't moved on.

When I finally reach him, I don't have to wonder anymore.

He looks up, as I refresh my vision and move around the dumpster he's slumped beside. He's as aware of me watching him as I am of him watching me. Neither of us move; me, because I'm not entirely sure how to respond to this situation. Him, because there's a crossbow bolt jammed in the outside of his thigh. It looks pretty painful.

After a few more moments, he shifts, adjusting his grip on his leg. I tilt my head. Seconds tick by…

And the silence, the resistance, fades away.

"Crow." Bitter, breathless, echoing unsettlingly from behind his helmet's face-mask. "I'm a little busy right now, in case you hadn't noticed."

Yeah, I'd say he is. "I was in the neighborhood." I shrug, finger the baton hooked on my belt. "And you're not exactly being subtle, here."

He snorts, shifts. I step back, but he just pulls himself a little closer to the wall behind him, straightening his good leg. "Not a lot of ways out, at the moment. Of course I had to cover all of them."

"Keep whoever shot you guessing, huh?" He hisses, but I ignore it. Because that reminded me of something Tattletale had said. Something that _really_ should have been obvious when I recognized the feather...things...on the bolt. "Shadow Stalker?"

"Psycho _bitch_."

"She tends to inspire that sort of reaction, yeah." 'Broadheads'. Great.

My vision goes out again, but I don't refresh it immediately. Look around, blindly scanning what has to be some kind of bubble, opened in the middle of the fog. No light to see it by, even without the blinding effect...I wonder, for a moment, whether Grue can see in the _dark_ , or if it's limited to his fog. Can he see the alley around us, but _not_ here, where his power isn't in effect?

Something to think about later, maybe. I blink the darkness away, and turn my attention to the rooftops. "So she's still hanging around, huh?"

"Probably." He grunts, shifts again...I take another step back, as he grabs the edge of the dumpster and pulls himself upright. "Something must have pissed her off. She's been relentless since she spotted me."

I could probably hazard a guess or two as to the why. Not that it matters, right now.

"So, what now?"

It's a good question. And I guess I _will_ have to figure it out. I didn't have much of a plan, for once I'd found him, and I was expecting to at least have a fight on my hands…

"I just cleared out a drug den." Or something like one. "Called the cops, so they should be on their way. I guess I could take you over to wait for them."

"And then the murder-ward comes along and takes me off their hands. No thanks."

Could she do that? I don't actually know...maybe something to find out. Not something to risk, though. "The PRT headquarters, then." Actually, that'd be _perfect_. "You'll get medical treatment, and they'll get evidence Shadow Stalker's been breaking the rules." There's a sense of vicious satisfaction, in the idea...

"Heh. You _really_ don't like her, do you?"

I didn't realize I'd been smiling, until that wipes it off my face. "No. I don't." I edge forward a half step-

-and crouch, on the edge of the dumpster. Looming over him. He startles, and bites out a cry of pain when his weight comes down on his injured leg. " _Fuck_ -!"

"I don't particularly like _you_ either...but I figure two birds with one stone isn't such a bad thing." He wavers, tries to catch himself against the wall...darkness falls, but I can hear him hit the ground. "I _could_ just leave you here, too. That's still an option."

Overwhelming silence returns. A moment later, so does my vision. He's pulling himself up again, straining visibly...obviously in pain. I _do_ feel bad about that, for a moment. Can't really help it. But I remind myself that he's a villain, that he's threatened and hurt innocent people for money. That he _chose this_.

"Hey." I wasn't sure whether it would work...but he does look up at me. Guess he can _hear_ as well as see. "Are you coming, or not?"

He stares, for a long moment, before slumping against the wall beside him. The silence recedes. "Damned if I do…?"

I think that's a yes.

I drop down, move to his good side. "Try not to distract me, once we get moving. I'd hate to drop you off a building." More than once.

It'd be tiring.

The nearest way out is the street that had first drawn my attention. I grab Grue's shoulder, and put us on the sidewalk. More silence, since we're in the middle of his fog…

"Stop using your power, once we've cleared the area. You don't want her to follow us, after all."

That said...there's a rooftop across the street. We're standing on the far side of it moments later. Wind, sound...I let my vision revert, and take a few moments to get a good look around without it.

"It'll take a little time for that to fade." I glance up as Grue gestures back toward the street. "She'll probably assume I'm still there, until then."

Well, that's lucky. "Saves me some effort, then." Back to the skyline...we need to head further downtown. "Now be quiet."

He doesn't say anything. And we teleport.

It takes three rooftops I reach a good elevation. Plotting things out from there gets me another five, without much difficulty...Grue seems to be flagging, by the end of it, which is annoying, because he keeps having to _lean_ on me, but it's not too much further-

"I think I'm going to be sick."

 _Fuck_. I shoot him an incredulous look, but I obviously can't see anything beneath that mask of his. "You're joking."

"Gratuitous injuries _aren't_ my usual thing." He growls, clutching at his stomach. "And some of us don't have a healer on tap."

That'd be both of us, actually. Not that I mention that. "If you throw up on me, I'll be dropping you at the nearest _hospital_ instead…" Still, I move us to the alley below, finding the nearest trash-can to open up. Grue limps up beside me, as I set the lid aside. "There. I hope you don't expect-"

Impact. Sharp not-pain in the side of my head, pressure as the other side hits the brick and rebounds. Vision swims, dizzying.

Something hits me in the stomach. The side. Something hard. There's more not-pain.

"...really are a rookie, aren't…"

I'm vaguely aware of movement, a shadow against dark, but it's...hard to focus.

Hard to-

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

I wake up to the noise of a phone ringing. _My_ phone, ringing. I groan as I push myself up, fumbling at my pockets for...phone? And I have to pull my mask up…

"H-" My voice catches, _scratches_ painfully. I wince, swallow a couple of times before trying again. "Hello?"

"Well you sound like shit."

I blink, squint past the...sunlight. "...Victoria?"

"You were expecting maybe one of the _other_ people that have this number?" She scoffs. I blink again. "So listen, we got a call _way_ too early this morning. Your dad. He was pretty freaked out when he realized you weren't at _home_. He wanted to know if you'd come over last night."

Dad...I _wasn't_ home. Last night?

"So I covered for you. With him, _and_ with mom, who wasn't happy about it...you're welcome for that." I flinch. Brace myself against the...the blacktop that I'm sitting on. "But I also figured I'd check in and make sure you hadn't gotten yourself blown up or something stupid like that...where are you, anyway?"

Where…? "I'm in an alley."

Oh.

 _Oh_ , shit. "Fucking _Grue_ …"

"Grue? The Undersider?"

I hiss, pressing a hand to my head. "I found him...last night." God, it's daylight already. "He was hurt. Shadow Stalker'd shot him in the leg." I look around...stand, and pull my mask up further so I can actually see the ground. A trail of blood, leading away. "I was bringing him to the PRT, but…"

He'd...oh _god_ , I'd fallen for that? That's...I can't…

"He hit me pretty hard." More than once, if I remember correctly. "I think he might have broken a few things, while he was at it." I poke at my ribs, feel...nothing much, really.

"You _think_?"

Oh, right. "I'm a Brute, now. And I was pretty out of it, after he bounced my head off the wall."

Silence, on the other end of the line, and I go over what I'd just said. Bite my lip. "Victoria?"

"I can't leave you alone for a minute without something weird happening, can I?" I pull my mask back down, and don't respond. And, after a few more seconds of silence, she sighs. "Look...you should come over, alright? Get yourself cleaned up so you can let your dad know you're in one piece. Then...we should talk." A pause, and her voice hardens. " _Actually_ talk, Taylor. No more dancing around this stuff. Alright?"

What am I supposed to say to that? I squeeze my eyes closed, and try to ignore the way my stomach is clenching. "...okay."

"Awesome. Guess...guess I'll see you in a bit, then."

"Yeah."

She hums. I chew my lip some more. Then there's a rustle, and a click. Guess it's time to hang up.

I tuck the phone away, pull my mask back into place and adjust my hood. Everything else is...exactly where it should be. Nobody was rifling through my pockets or anything.

I look down at the blotches of dried blood, one more time. The ones that I don't _think_ are from Grue.

...shit.

I turn away, and teleport straight up. The rush of _falling_ clears away the last of my haziness, and gives me enough speed to get _moving_.

Off to Victoria's house.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

One _incredibly_ awkward hour later, I'd gotten a shower, a change of clothes, reassured my dad, and stowed both my costume _and_ the crossbow Victoria had shoved off on me somewhere safe.

Victoria, for her part, had wasted no time in hijacking me again, 'likely for the rest of the day'. Dad, well-meaning traitor that he is, agreed with that dazed smile that so many people seem to default to when faced with her... _forceful_ personality.

And then...then she'd flown us _here_ , to the top of some office building on the edge of the Docks. High enough to see the Bay, stretching out across the horizon...it'd be a great view, if it weren't for the tension coiling in my chest, the frustrated frown etched onto her face as she stares out at the water.

"...so-"

She holds up a hand, and I cut myself off. Wait, uncertainly, for her to...say something. Anything.

Finally, she sighs. "Alright. So it's been...less than two days." She turns her frown on me. "But obviously I've missed a few things. So get me caught up."

"...right." I can do that. "I...figured out how to track down the Runes. Sort of." She _stares_ , and I grit my teeth, defensive. "I thought I could figure out where the Tinker was set up, again. And I did. Another workshop...lots of Runes. Lots of half-built stuff. And a couple of armed guards."

"He's got _henches_ now?"

"I guess." I shrug. "But he's down the workshop. I kind of turned it into a bonfire."

Oh. That sounded better in my head.

Victoria seems to agree with that sentiment. "You...burnt his workshop down."

"I don't actually know if it burnt... _all_ the way down?"

She scowls, and pinches the bridge of her nose. " _Taylor_ …"

"He had _parts_." I raise my voice without thinking, but quickly reign myself back in. "He had a freezer full of... _raw materials_. I wasn't going to just leave him to work."

Silence, as we retreat to our metaphorical corners. But before it can stretch on too long, I pick up where I'd left off. "I...took some of the stuff I'd found. The Runes. And I wound up sort of…" I don't know what to call it. "I hurt my hand, when I was talking to Armsmaster. It was getting worse, and I was holding a Rune, and I sort of... _burned_ a few of them."

"...and now you're a Brute."

I nod, slowly. "I think so. The pain just...wasn't very important, anymore? And it was completely healed a couple hours later."

She closes her eyes. "These rune things _gave you new powers_."

They did. Something I've been trying _not_ to think too hard about. "Yeah, as far as I can tell."

She nods. Takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out in an explosive sigh. "Okay. So how does this lead to Grue?"

It doesn't, really, but I don't think correcting her on that will be very helpful, at the moment. "I was getting restless, last night. I needed to _do_ something. So...I went out." I shrug. "Wound up clearing some kind of gang hideout-"

"As you do."

The sarcasm trips me up, but for a brief moment I think I see her smirking, and that's...good. That's good. "It wasn't much. I doubt anybody will care, a week from now. But, yeah. I took care of that, called the police in. And when I was leaving, I spotted Grue's fog, nearby. Decided to investigate."

"And you found him, obviously." She turns back to the bay, finally moves again...I follow her to the edge of the roof, and when she sits down, I settle carefully beside her. "You said Shadow Stalker shot him."

"With an _actual_ crossbow bolt. Definitely not non-lethal ammunition."

"Which is _seriously_ against the rules. And that's for Wards who aren't on super-secret probation."

"And _that's_ why I was taking him to the PRT."

She hums, mulling that over for a second. "Except you let him get the drop on you. And you spent the rest of the night unconscious in a random alleyway." I can't really do anything else but nod, and she sighs. "Taylor, you...I can't decide whether your luck is amazing...or complete _shit_."

Yeah. That's a fair question. One I'd like an answer to, myself. "I like to think I'm doing well with what I've got."

"If this is 'well', I'm _really_ not looking forward to seeing what 'falling apart' is like."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She barks out a laugh, brief, sharp. And when she turns to look at me again, she's grinning. It's not a very comforting expression. "Hey, I like to think of myself as an optimist. But I've been chasing this stuff around in my head for awhile now and…" Her grin fades, and she snorts, shakes her head. "It's...you have to admit it's pretty messed up, Taylor. This guy, giving out powers? Pitting you against this psycho...treating _people_ like _entertainment_ …"

I don't agree, not immediately. And I think she notices. But she doesn't say anything, and I do manage to find the words I want. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't have anything to do with...setting us against each other, or whatever."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah. Obviously I'm _way_ off base."

Obviously. "He's kind of an asshole, yeah. But a lot of people are. And at least-" At least...what?

I swallow, and turn away. Watch a group of hazy clouds crawling toward the city from over the bay. "...he gave me these powers. And if I didn't have them, I'd still be... _stuck_. I'd be going to Winslow every day, eating my lunches in the fucking _bathroom_. I'd still be watching my grades spiraling down, watching the teachers and the students do _nothing_...watching them disassemble my _life_ , and there'd be _nothing_ I could do to change it."

My vision blurs, for a moment, but I don't really care at this point. I'm sort of... _beyond_ that, here. "I don't give a _shit_ about that place anymore, and I don't really have to." I actually have to smile, as the realization dawns. "What do they _matter_? I've saved people's lives. I've fought supervillains. I've _died_ , a dozen times, and."

"God, that is _so_ not something to brag about."

I laugh. I laugh, and it feels so _good_ to do so. "I mean, I'm getting better about that. Obviously. But how many other people can _say_ stuff like that?" Not many. I'm pretty sure of that. "I've died, and _nearly_ died...I got saved by Velocity, and by Panacea, and _Glory Girl_." I smirk, and nudge her arm. "Teamed up with New Wave, trained with Manpower…"

She's laughing now, too. "Okay Taylor, I think I get the point."

"...and I made a friend." I look down again. "I was pretty shitty about it, but I was trying, and it was...it was nice. And even though I screwed it up, even though it only happened because I got these messed up powers that came with all this...I dunno, _baggage_ …" I pause, suddenly. Just drawing a blank. "I guess...I'm just glad I managed that much."

The wind blows. Below us, the morning traffic continues to crawl along.

Victoria laughs again. Sniffs, loudly. When I glance up, she's wiping fitfully at her face, and looking anywhere but at me. "Wow. Kinda makin' me feel like an asshole, over here."

That _wasn't_ what I'd planned. At all. "To be fair, that's...I did lie to you about a _lot_ of stuff."

"You did." Her smile slips. "Yeah, you did. And you know what?" She levels a glare at me, reaches up to poke me between the eyes. "You're _going_ to make it up to me."

Heh. "Yeah. Okay."

She nods, and lifts off the rooftop, rising until she's got her feet under her...she takes a step back from the edge, rocking on her heels and sweeping her hair from her face. "Awesome. Good talk."

I guess it was…

"Hey, I'm pretty hungry, though. Sort of skipped breakfast, with the whole 'making sure you weren't dead' thing. Late breakfast?"

Victoria offers me a hand up. I take it, let her pull me to my feet. "I...sure. Yeah." Breakfast sounds good. Great.

"Awesome. You're buying. Again."

"I...don't have my wallet." Or money to put in it, anymore.

She seems to consider that, for a long moment. "Ehh...I'll take an IOU, I guess."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"I'm a generous soul."

I smile all the way to the Boardwalk.


	35. Chapter 29

" _I'm just saying, you sort of steamrolled over what I actually wanted to talk about. All poetical and depressing."_

Is poetical a word…?

" _Well, I mean...first, I wanted to apologize. 'Cause I did kind of ditch you without saying anything, and that wasn't really cool."_

Victoria has a hand up. There's a fork in her hand. I can't count the tines.

" _And I thought I had more questions, but after thinking it over you pretty much answered anything I would have asked. So I guess I was mostly looking for, I dunno. Clarification, maybe? Something like that."_

Haven't we had this conversation before?

" _Because, it's kind of a big deal! I mean...there aren't that many Parahumans that can just hand out the sort of powers you've got, you know? Mover, Thinker, Master, plus whatever that Tinker's got that lets him make things to give you more_ _powers...it's nuts."_

"How are you talking without moving your mouth?"

Silence.

I blink. Victoria doesn't move, expression frozen in a smile. There's still some sauce, at the corner of her mouth. Alfredo. We're eating pasta.

No, she is. I'm sitting in a broken chair. And she's frozen.

I turn away from the bistro.

" **!** "

He's so...angry. _Rage_. It twists his face. Bared teeth, wide eyes.

He seems tired, too.

 _I blink again. The moment stretches on for an eternity_.

The Bonecarver is still screaming at me. I don't feel afraid. I feel like fifth grade, when I broke a microscope slide. It's a sick, heavy, pit of my stomach.

Why isn't he older? I thought he'd be older. Without the mask, he's not. Just angry. And tired.

I think he hates me?

He lunges, but everything is so _slow_. I don't feel the need to move. Long limbs plant themselves in tiles. I'm entranced by the cracks as they spread, split, move apart. Beneath, nothing. Light. The world _skips_ , flickers, blue turned to cold white, shadows deepening, gathering, shifting. Just for a moment. It's unsettling.

I look up. The Bonecarver stands on his island, staring across the empty space that's opened between us. The whispering _thing_ behind him ripples, and wraps, mouths shifting closer. He screams at me some more. But the words don't... _reach_. Would I feel more afraid, if they did?

I don't know.

I turn around. Stare at the emptiness in front of me.

 _The Void reveals itself again, for a brief moment. Through the cRacks that have begun to foRm in The ScaLes that cOVer my EyeS._

"Am I...dreaming?"

The thought clings, and I absently hold it...turn it over. Examine it. It's heavy in my hands. Crystalline. Fragile.

This is the Void? So I might be. Might _Be_. In the Void? Dreaming in the Void? Is there a difference? The Outsider talks either way.

The Bonecarver is here either way.

 _Is he in **my dream**?_

The feeling in my stomach gets worse. I think this is fear, now. I don't want him here. I don't want to be here.

A claw, behind me. It drags a piece of wall into place. A door, there. Darkness, past it. I walk through.

The Bonecarver isn't here. But I think he was. He doesn't look as angry, when he's working. I think that makes it worse.

Tools. Bone. I pad closer, peer over his shoulder. He's working on something, but I can't see it properly. It doesn't have... _presence_?

 _The Void flickers_. _I remember_.

In the empty place, a tiny music-box. That doesn't seem right. It's too small. Doesn't fit his tools.

Since when did dreams make sense?

I turn away, move past the snake-man, past the doors. Into a patchwork corridor.

Where am I?

I'm in a vault.

I look up at the door. Heavy. Solid. I try to turn, but I'm nudged away. Something _broken_ shifts, as I slip through a widening crack.

"Where am I going?"

This doesn't feel right. Doesn't feel real. But it doesn't feel like a dream, either. I must be dreaming. Why is it so _hazy_?

Stone cracks. Grinds. I turn, a wall dragged into place. Bars, torn from...a prison? A cell? Placed between me and the Bonecarver.

His hand drips red. Blood trails from his nose. He glares, shakes. I stare, at the Charm hung around his neck.

He followed me. But he can't reach me?

" _The difference between knowing and learning isn't something most would consider. You'd be forgiven for thinking there's no difference at all."_

 _I feel myself...sinking. Withdrawing. Stepping back. The Bonecarver disappears, the Void stark and shadowed again._

 _The Outsider folds his hands behind his back, inscrutable as he slips back into a patch of darkness. I think I catch the hint of a smile as he's swallowed up by it._

Color returns. The Bonecarver reels back, toward the warped bars he'd forced through.

" _ **!**_ "

More hate. I guess I can understand it.

I hate him, too.

I don't want him here.

"Get out."

 _ **[BouNdaRY eStaBLIsheD.]**_

" **!** "

 _[ rREefFuUSsaLll ]_

Sharp things dart out from behind me. Spears of flesh and chitin. The sight of them makes my head hurt. The Bonecarver is worse off.

 _ **[AutHoRity. CoMPly.]**_

He clutches at his face, as the twisting whispers slip iN tHrougH his hEAd. His hand drops. Brushes the Charm.

He's gone. The pain in my head spikes, as something behind me buzzes. Hums.

I turn to look. I squint past the pain. I see threads, and black eyes, and too many _limbs_ , and-

-I jolt awake.

My heart is racing. Mouth dry. I shiver, shift, loosen the death-grip I've got on my pillow. Cold, clammy...I sit up, and sweep my hair out of my face with shaking hands.

That wasn't just a dream.

So what the _fuck_ was it?

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

Three days since I screwed things up with Grue and somehow fumbled my way back into Victoria's good graces. Two days since she laid down a very firm 'no freakiness without letting me know' rule. All of a day since I decided that some (actual) time off _was_ doing me good.

And now this. A too-real nightmare involving a too-detailed Tinker and…

I shake my head, press the heels of my hands into my eyes for a few seconds before settling back in my seat. My coffee is still steaming; too hot to drink. Probably too bitter, too. I haven't actually had much practice making the stuff for myself, but...it seemed more appropriate than tea, for some reason.

(Might have to reconsider that. The bitter smell isn't doing anything for the pressure at the back of my head.)

It's...just now six o'clock, according to my phone. Too early to talk to Victoria, right? Of course it is. If I'd had my way, _I_ wouldn't have been up for another few hours. Which, granted, is mostly because I've seriously screwed up my sleep schedule with all the late nights out in the city.

Being a hero is disruptive for your personal life. Who would've thought?

I drink my coffee. The inside of my mouth stings with phantom pain. And as I glower at my mug in betrayal, I hear footsteps on the stairs.

Dad. Up early, today. Considering how late he was up last night...I almost manage to smile, as he stumbles into the kitchen and almost immediately gravitates toward the coffee maker.

"Morning, Dad."

He rubs his face, absently digging through the cupboard for a mug of his own. "I'm not going to be convinced of that until I see sunlight."

I smile. So does he, a moment later, glancing over his shoulder at me as he pours his coffee. "You're up awfully early today."

Right. That. I take another sip; it's still too hot. "I did go to bed early, too. Guess I wasn't as tired as I thought I was."

He nods, slowly. Stands at the counter and stares into his mug for what seems like a really long time.

"That's good." He nods, finally, picking it up and moving to the table. "I've been...well, I've been concerned, lately." I frown, at his strained smile. "I think if _one_ of us deserves a break...it's probably you."

...uh, "What?"

He winces, but a moment later his smile seems...better. "Well, granted, _I've_ had the great pleasure of wheedling every possible job out of the newest batch of 'opportunities'." He pauses to take a drink, and I absently mirror him a few moments later. "But wrangling labor contracts doesn't have much on a Cape fights and midnight patrols."

I choke.

It's _uncomfortable_ , too-hot coffee surging through my sinuses, down my throat. Breathless, _wet_ coughing ensues as the heat hits my lungs, and before I realize it, Dad is behind me, one hand on my back as the other steadies my mug.

"...alright Taylor, it's okay, just breathe…"

I do. I catch my breath, cough a few more times, clear my throat...try to focus more on how _weird_ my chest feels right now, rather than-

" _Dad_ …"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I had it all worked out. I was going to...but then you were drinking, and it was just... _timing_ …"

I stare, incredulous, because...that…

"You...a _spit-take_?"

He laughs, nervously, combing a hand through his hair. "I...didn't really think it through."

He didn't...right. Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. Just a joke. A poorly executed one. I force a smile, and rub at my eyes. Tearing up from snorting coffee. Ugh. "I should never have let you watch the Three Stooges. You're just too impressionable."

"It's statements like that that make me wonder who the parent is here, sometimes." He shakes his head with mock seriousness.

And...now _I'm_ the one laughing. Then he joins in, and...and it's good. It _feels_ good. When I finally catch my breath, I have to dab more tears from my eyes. Probably still from the coffee. Which, now that I think about it, has probably cooled down a _little_ bit by now.

I take a drink. It doesn't really soothe my throat at all, but it's better than nothing. And...well, the good humor is infectious. I smile, as I set the mug down. "I'm glad you appreciate how hard _crime-busting_ can be, though." The sarcasm may be laid on a little thick, but that's fine. "I'll be sure to schedule plenty of breaks, in the future. So you don't have to worry."

Dad's answering smile is a little sad. "I think I'll still worry. Even working with New Wave...well, I've done a lot of reading lately, Taylor. And some of the statistics...independent heroes aren't _safe_."

I still. His smile fades. For a second, I don't know how to respond. Then, I realize I need to _deny_.

"What are you talking about?"

He sighs. It sounds as tired as I feel. "I know. I've known for a little while, now."

...what.

"Or…I haven't been able to figure it out." His brow furrows. "Do you...you _don't_ like the name Crow?"

...he knows?

"I didn't pick it." I swallow, turn away...coffee. In my mug. Dark, solid black, but it reflects the overhead lights. Very distracting. "How…?"

"I'm not an _idiot,_ Taylor." A faint ghost of the earlier laughter in his voice. "You come home with _Victoria Dallon_ of all people, and suddenly you're best friends? You start sneaking out at night, not coming home…" A pause, and the hand on my back shifts up to my shoulder. "I haven't seen you wearing your glasses in two weeks, kiddo."

I haven't…? I reach up. No glasses. Right. I...I'm not actually sure when the last time I had them was. I haven't really _thought_ about them, lately. Did I really just _forget_ …?

"...why aren't you freaking out more?"

He sighs. A chair scrapes on the floor as he pulls it over, and I glance up as he settles beside me. "I did 'freak out'. The day after your _friend_ showed me that video, when I got called into work, Kurt...you remember him? He was showing it around." A wry smirk colors his voice. "Apparently you've got a fan, there…" I flush, and he shakes his head. "I'd...I don't want to say 'suspected'. But I'd thought about it. Dismissed it, because it was...it _should have been_ ridiculous. Only, hearing that story of yours blaring on the speakers in the next room? Hearing _you_?"

Of course it was the video. Of course it was the Fundraiser. That night just keeps coming back to bite me, doesn't it?

"I couldn't believe it." He sighs again. "I wanted to...just rush home, and tell you to stop, or to join the Wards...something. I _did_. But-"

 _But_. Right. "I wasn't here." I finish for him.

And he nods. "No you weren't. You were off fighting Oni Lee." I grimace, look away. And I nearly flinch when he wraps an arm around me. "And I'm _proud_ of you."

"I'm s-" Wait. I relax, slowly. "...really?"

"Yes, _really_." He's smiling again. Forced, but it's _there_. "Terrified out of my _wits_ , yes. _Angry_ that _you_ were the one having to do that sort of thing, definitely. But...you've been doing good. And that's-" He cuts off, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head. "That's important."

I almost feel like I'm choking again. "...and you're not gonna stop me? Try to convince me to join the Wards?"

He chuckles, just a little bitterly. "Would I be able to?"

Probably not. I guess we both know that.

"I...wouldn't mind if you kept me in the loop, though?"

It takes me a few seconds to actually understand what he's saying. Because...I mean...he _knows_ , apparently. Obviously.

"I can-" I can do that. It shouldn't be... _too_ hard. "Yeah, I can do that." Keep my _Dad_...in the loop. Right. That's easy. Only...I'll probably have to tell him about the Bonecarver.

Which means explaining...basically everything else about that mess. All of it? I think of Victoria, her reaction, and decide that _maybe_ full disclosure is for the best.

And you know what? Fuck it. If I'm going to tell him everything, it might as well be _everything_. I've already told these stories _once_ ; telling them both at the same time shouldn't be any harder.

"Do you...do you remember the last time I went to Summer camp?"

He nods.

"Right. Well, when I came back is... _about_ the time things started to go wrong."

I was wrong.

It's actually much harder, this time.

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

"So, how'd he take it?"

I shrug, absently tugging at one of the holes in the outer layer of my vest. "I made him promise not to do anything drastic. We agreed there wasn't anything we could do about the school besides pull me out." I pause, turn my attention to the sparse clouds overhead. "And then he said he needed to talk to some people."

Victoria drifts ahead to peer down into an alleyway. "About what?"

"Dunno." I consider the gap, then take a running leap to cover it. I haven't been running as much lately. Teleportation is convenient, but I don't need to be getting lazy. Or complacent. "I didn't think to ask."

She scoffs, drawing even with me again a moment later. "You 'didn't think to ask'. Of course you didn't. Why would you bother asking when you could just go out and beat up some bad guys."

"That's a lot of judgement from someone who literally jumped at the chance to come along."

"Well, I've got a grudge with one of our unlucky targets. And I guess a grudge-by-proxy for the other." She shrugs. "Totally a different thing. I know if _my_ dad had just told me he knows I'm a Cape before delivering ominous statements and leaving for destinations unknown, _I_ would probably just ask the obvious question."

"Your dad is a Cape."

"...didn't say it was a perfect comparison." She narrows her eyes, pulling ahead just enough to glare at me for a moment before she huffs and gestures dismissively. "My point stands. It's strange behavior, is what I'm saying."

"Right."

"I'm serious! Does vagueness and skewed perspective just run in your family? Maybe it's something in your water."

I roll my eyes, come to a stop as we reach the end of the building I'd been walking along. "It's not something in the water."

" _You don't know that_."

I could argue it. But I catch the hint of a smirk, a twitch at the corner of her mouth, and I decide I won't give her the satisfaction. Instead, I move up to the _very_ edge of the roof, consider the side-street below. "We're almost there." Two lanes...the other rooftop is lower, but not by much. "What do you figure? Twenty feet? Twenty-five?"

She blinks, but follows my gaze. Moves to hover beside me, rubbing her chin as she considers. "Probably closer to thirty-something."

That's a long way. "Help me across?"

"...like, you want me to _fly_ you, or…" I shake my head, and mime an underhand swing. She stares. "Are you serious?"

"Come on, we've done this sort of thing before."

"I seem to remember hauling your scrawny ass up a couple of builds. I _didn't_ come out here to play trapeze."

Okay, the comparison...actually isn't that far off. And I guess it _is_ kind of stupid, now that I actually think about it. "Sorry. It just popped into my head."

"...eh, I'm kind of curious how this'll turn out now." She shrugs, and kicks into the air, drifting out and up. "How far, do you think?"

Hell if I know. I step back from the edge, brush myself down as I open up some distance. "I don't know. Less than halfway?"

She shrugs, and moves to hove in place above the street. I consider her, consider the _wide_ gap...and then I stop _considering_. Run, jump, _reach_...I grip her arms, she grips mine, and suddenly I'm moving _faster_. Arcing up, then down...I just _barely_ hit the edge of the rooftop. I could swear I could feel the air under my heels, before I fall into a roll, coat flapping around my legs as I come up in a crouch.

Sarcastic applause from Victoria, as I stand. "Very stylish. Gotta appreciate the practice you must put into that sort of thing."

"Thanks?"

"Uh-huh." A moment of silence that stretches on just _slightly_ longer than is comfortable. "...so are we going to check out the hideout now, or…?"

Oh. Right. That.

"Yeah. Sorry." Once again, I'm grateful for my mask. My face may be burning, but I don't _sound_ embarrassed. So nobody will ever know. "It was just a little further." A couple blocks over, I think? The rooftops all look different, during the day.

It does only take a few minutes to reach the place, though. I'd almost worried that we'd miss it, or that I wouldn't recognize it. But...well, there's probably only _one_ burnt out warehouse in the area.

Victoria is giving me a _Look_. I do my best to ignore it. Along with the fire damage to the buildings closest the warehouse.

"Come on. I doubt there'll be anything useful, but it can't hurt to look, right?"

She sighs, and follows me down to the street. "Every little bit helps."

I can only hope so. Because it really is about time we ended this. No more chases, and escapes. No more ambushes, or sneaking around in my _dreams_.

This guy's going down.


	36. Chapter 30

Picked clean.

Between fire crews, police, and...I don't know. Looters? Scavengers? I'd be shocked if someone hadn't come along to dig through this wreck for anything valuable. Or anything that looked valuable. Anything that might have been _evidence_.

"You sure we're going to find something useful, here?" I turn away from the pile of charred rubble that used to be a good portion of the warehouse roof to see Victoria, still at work, carefully propping a broken support beam against a still-standing section of wall. She only gives the space that _had_ been beneath it a cursory glance, before looking up at me. "I gotta admit, I'm not really seeing that happening."

Yeah. "I guess it was kind of a long shot." But it couldn't have hurt to check. Just to be _sure_. I think that's been part of my problem lately; I've been trying to work things out, investigate. But I haven't been _following through_. That's what today is about, I guess. "Making sure there's nothing left."

She shrugs, and lifts away from the floor, scanning what's left of the ceiling. For what, I'm not sure. "So where do we go from here?"

From here...well, even after a few days, I can still feel those Runes. Only a few of them, scattered, distant. Investigating those is about the only real 'plan' I have at the moment. And while it almost goes against the 'thinking things through' thing...there are limits to what I can do about it. A city is a very big place to go looking for a secret lair. If the Runes don't lead us to him…

"There are a couple spots we can check." Not the place downtown, since I know that's basically a bust. "Closer to the bay." One's almost a straight shot from here, toward the water. The other...somewhere by the Boardwalk, if what I'd picked up while we were there a couple days ago means anything at all. And, if nothing else? "He's come after me before." I nod, turning to pick my way through scorched rubble until I've got line of sight on the rooftop across the street, framed almost perfectly by a hole in the front of the warehouse. "Worse comes to worst, we just wander around and hope he tries something."

I don't need to look to know Victoria isn't happy with that idea. "Your solution for not being able to find him is to _bait him out_?"

"Essentially." To be honest, I'm not sure what the problem is. There's not much difference between 'going looking for trouble' and 'waiting for trouble to come to you'. "Are you coming?"

I glance back, as she settles in behind me. Grunt, and face forward again when she decides that my head makes a perfect arm-rest. The contact is enough, though-

-so I don't bother complaining. Duck out from under her as I reorient on the Rune. "You go high? Get a bird's eye view?"

"See, I would've thought that'd be _your_ thing. Huh, _Crow_?"

She can't see my glare. She laughs anyway.

Today hasn't been boring, at least.

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

It's not a time consuming trip. With a solid destination in mind and no real distractions...well, I definitely appreciate having a Mover power. And I'm sure Victoria does, too, seeing as she seems to bore easily. "I stopped for maybe ten seconds."

She twists in place, looping into a low, sweeping arc. For a second, I'm afraid she's going to clip one of the junction boxes that dots the rooftop, but she sort of corkscrews away at the last second. "I didn't want to get too far ahead!" Another twist, and she's facing me again. "And it's never a bad time to practice trick-flying."

Right.

"We're almost there." I shake my head-

-and step up onto the next roof over. Jog across, while I wait for Victoria to catch up. Given how I could actually feel the change in elevation in relation to the Rune, I was definitely right about that. Another few blocks, maybe.

And I guess it couldn't really be any further than that, because after that we'll have hit the beach.

"...if it's underwater, we can probably write off the Tinker still having it."

"What's underwater?" Victoria, dropping down beside me. I shrug, and she follows my gaze out to the bay. "Oh, damn. You think so?"

"I guess it could be." Still going to hope it's _not_. It may be getting warmer, day by day, but not nearly enough to consider going for a swim. "We should probably make sure. At least if _we_ can't reach it easily, nobody else can either."

"Right?" She grins, and nudges me forward. "Let's get it done, then."

She lifts off. Follows me, as I teleport ahead. Two blocks later, I've got a much better idea of direction. A second to reorient, to move to what looks like the last row of buildings before the bay…

I stop. Frown, as I scan the area below me. Hold out my hand to...reach? _Grasp_ at the feeling of 'where'. Ahead, there's a single, unmoving point. Not unexpected. But now that we're _here_ , I think...I think the other one might be moving?

New priority, then. I turn, wave Victoria down as she catches up, start walking before she even lands. "The other Rune's on the move. We need to go to the Boardwalk."

Any good humor from earlier disappears, and she turns to follow me with an uncharacteristically serious frown. "So let's go then."

She takes off, almost straight up. After a moment to consider, I take a running leap off the side of the building and follow her. Once I get going, I'm more than capable of keeping pace with Victoria; it's maybe three minutes before the Boardwalk comes into view. But by then, the Rune's already moving away.

A sharp tap on Victoria's shoulder as I fall past her draws her attention, and I twist to catch her eye, gesturing sharply to indicate our new direction before carrying on. From there it's...not exactly complicated. Sweeping over the area a couple of times, getting a good idea of direction. Eventually, I stop again, find a good place to perch and...watch.

By the time Victoria's caught up again, I'm pretty sure I've figured out who's got the Rune.

"Him." I point the guy out, as he weaves around a group of teenagers. Not much detail visible, from five stories up, but there's a rough picture there. Big guy, too-pale with his hair buzzed to his scalp. Black sweater, just a little out of place in the steadily warming weather. Nothing _inherently_ suspicious, but-

"The shady-looking turtleneck guy?"

...well, it's not _just_ me, then. Good to know. "As far as I can tell." And standing here, watching him walk and feeling the Rune move in synch? Thinking back to the armed men in the warehouse? "...he's got to be one of the Tinker's henches."

"Awesome." Victoria nods, sharply. Grins, as she smacks a fist into her open palm. "So, how do you want to play this?"

How? I guess there _are_ options. It'd be easy enough to just swoop down now. Bring him back up to the rooftop, take the Rune, question him, turn him over to the PRT…

"We'll follow him." He'd picked up the Rune for a reason. And he wasn't just wandering around, here. He was moving like he had a purpose. "If we're lucky, he'll lead us to where his boss is holed up. We can hit him before he gets _another_ workshop established."

"Hell yeah. Let's get our sneak on."

Let's.

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

It seems like an eternity before our target finally leaves the sidewalks, turning down an alleyway without missing a beat. Calm, confident...because he knows exactly where he's going. Around a corner, just across from the building we've settled on, he stops in front of a red-painted door. Fishes for a set of keys.

This is it.

"Wait here, don't call me, keep an eye out."

Victoria looks uncertain, but doesn't voice it. "Be careful."

That's about as much of a plan as I've got. He's got the keys in the lock. So I drop into a crouch-

-just behind him. Holding my breath, not daring to move. The door opens, he steps forward, and I make a split-second decision, dropping forward to press myself against-

-chalky, textured paneling. A fluorescent light hums to life beside me, door clicking shut somewhere 'above'. Slowly, carefully, I lift my head. Watch my target as he locks up, and passes over me without so much as a glance. He's out of my sight moments later, but I can still hear him. I can still listen...no pause, in his footsteps. No indications he's noticed me, even as he turns a corner.

I teleport to the floor, and push myself up as slowly as I can. Almost silently.

Enhanced vision...five bodies, in the building. Including the guy we tailed here. Two of them are upstairs, seated. Not sure what they're doing, but it involves a lot of reaching and fiddling with things. Another two are somewhere ahead...and I think that's where Rune-guy is going.

Edging down the hallway, past open doors...they look like empty offices, maybe. One still has a bunch of cubicle walls propped in a corner. How does this guy keep finding places like this to squat…?

Around the corner. Rune-guy is almost to the other two, I think. Might be best to catch up. I pick up the pace as much as I can without _clomping_ over the thin carpeting. These boots are nice, but they don't seem to be designed for high-speed sneaking…

Voices. A half-open door. I slow again, but don't stop. I need to _see_ …

"-any trouble." Deep voice, smooth. Rune-guy, I think, since it doesn't look like the other two are talking. I watch as he hands something over to...long coat. Face-mask. This close, it's impossible to mistake him.

"Good. That's good." Ragged, almost breathless. I shiver, as the Tinker shoves what has to be the Rune into his coat. "And you _know_...you know...how this has to be handled. _Right_?"

A dangerous edge to the question. The third man is up and moving, and as I finally reach the door, I can see the workbench he's examining. Just as much crap as before, if not more. Where the _hell_ did he get it all?

"I think we can take care of it."

"Your _friends_ said that too. They did…" The Tinker growls, and there's a moment of quiet before he turns to the man by the table. "Do it."

What the hell are they up to now?

Third-man nods, and grabs hold of a boxy looking thing on the table, unfolding...some kind of crank? It turns-

And I hiss, as my vision cuts out. As my hand cramps, and _vertigo_ nearly sends me to the floor. What the _fuck_ …?

"Maybe you feel different, kid." I blink, and stumble back from the door as I see Rune-guy stalking toward me. "But I sure as hell wouldn't follow somebody if I had a power that made sure they knew it."

...oh, _fuck me_.

I turn. I run. Barely make the corner before the gunshots ring out. Crackling, buzzing, too many and too quick to count. My leg goes out from under me, my left. Left calf. Hot, impact. I got shot. It doesn't hurt nearly as much as it did last week, but it definitely doesn't help me run any faster.

That _noise_ is still there, and getting closer. That's more alarming, honestly. Moaning, grinding, I scramble down the hall, toward the door. Locked door. I try to _move_...and nothing happens. No teleport. Not even a flicker.

I keep moving. Claw the lock open. I hear steady footsteps, and hissed encouragements to _shoot her again_.

The door opens, and I hit the ground, palms stinging from the impact. But it's distant. _Very_ unimportant.

"Help!"

The door swings open the moment Victoria hits the asphalt beside me. I hear a curse, twice-over, and suddenly I'm being spun around. Facing a gun. Machine pistol.

It _crackles_ again. I feel something cut into my hip, a spike of pain radiating up my side.

And Victoria screams.

We shoot up, but drop again almost immediately...hitting the rooftop in a tumble. I struggle to my feet, trying (and failing) to support any sort of weight on my left side. Victoria seems to be struggling to even sit up...clutching at her side.

A slowly spreading patch of red on her costume. Panicked breathing. Pained noises. She was shot.

She was shot?

There's a _crack_ , different from before...and the Tinker arcs up over the edge of the roof. He's got a hammer, claw hammer. There's blood on the wooden handle. I fumble for my baton, as he lands, some mechanism in his boots clicking and hissing...they _crack_ again, and he hits me. Hard.

Something in my chest cracks as we hit metal, as it crumples beneath us. There's more pain. That doesn't stop me from whipping the baton out to full length and swinging with as much force as I can manage. Leg. Upper thigh. Not a good spot, but it draws his attention, gives me a chance to force him away.

The second swing catches him in the shoulder. Not much better. I step forward, stumble as my leg refuses to take my weight, and-

-only just avoid the hammer.

I just teleported. I can still hear the noise, distantly, from below, but I can still teleport.

"I should have _killed_ you the first time, you _bitch_!"

I look up. Hear _hiss-click_. And I-

-put myself behind him. Drag him back-

-and as far up as I can. His boots _crack_ , useless in the air. He struggles. We twist. I see a splotch of white below. Victoria, injured.

Up. One more time.

"You're going down, asshole."

He only laughs. A second later, I understand why, because _holy shit his coat is burning_. I push away, as hard as I can...and blue flame _pulses_ out from his back. It probably would have been enough to kill me, if I'd tried to hold on any longer…

I'm falling. So is he. But where I'm just tumbling, he...the fire _pulses_ again, this time from his front. Burning away his loose shirt, so I can catch sight of something metal beneath.

Another pulse, from his back, and he's that much closer to me. Because he's got some sort of fucking _jet pack_ thing. What the _fuck_?

He closes distance with a roar-

-and catches nothing but air, as I twist to drive my knees into his back, with all the force of my 'fall' behind me. It doesn't do much more than speed _his_ fall even more, and a second later I'm forced to move again to avoid the burst of flame. His coat is nearly falling apart, now, still burning in places...I can see the thing. Exposed. Some kind of harness, nozzles and hoses…

A sustained flair slows him down, forces him upright. We're getting closer to the ground again...he's distracted. So when I appear beside him and catch onto his arm, he doesn't have the time to react. Doesn't have the time to stop me from jamming my baton up into the nearest nozzle and _yanking_ as hard as I can. I try for one of the hoses, too, but heat across my arm makes me flinch away, and the hammer catches the side of my mask before I can push away.

I go down. Don't bother bleeding off my momentum in the air, just orient myself parallel to the rooftop and do my best to _roll_. More pain. I'm...probably not doing so good.

"C-crow!"

But I can't...I can worry about it later. Victoria's managed to pull herself into a sitting position, against a junction box. Above us, the Tinker is making a jerky, off-balance descent.

No way am I walking, right now, so it's an awkward sort of scramble to Victoria's side. She's still bleeding. Shaking. Pale. She looks scared.

"Sorry." It's all I can really offer...because this is probably going to hurt.

I wrap my arms around her, and take us up, and away. Once, twice, three times without pause. Enough for me to feel the pressure in the back of my head, to be wary about trying a fourth. I still only let us fall for a couple of seconds before going _up_ again.

It jostles Victoria. She tries to help, I can tell from the way we don't fall as quickly the next few times, but the way she hisses, whines...I…

I don't know how much time passes, before we hit the ground. Before we tumble across a manicured lawn. I hit a fence. Victoria hits me. She cries out in pain, but it's all I can do to make sure I'm breathing.

There's a sliding door, at the back of the house. And only a few more seconds pass before it slams open with a flash of orange light.

I can't really say anything. Victoria's in no state to explain. In the end, I don't think either of those things matter.

Brandish only hesitates for a moment before turning back into the house. " _Amy!_ "

Muscles I didn't realize _could_ lock up start to relax, as Victoria's mom darts across the lawn. As Amy appears not long after.

When I feel myself start to slip, I don't bother fighting it.

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

My pounding headache is a wonderful accompaniment for the dull, distant throbbing of my bullet wounds.

As it turns out, a five minute nap after an adrenaline crash doesn't...actually help you feel any better. I wouldn't have _expected_ it to, but I guess I wouldn't have minded being pleasantly surprised. For once.

God.

" _What. Happened._ "

It's a question I've been expecting since I woke up and got moved to this chair. Yet again, I'm... _very_ thankful for my mask. Because it means I don't have to open my eyes. I don't have to look at Brandish as I struggle for an answer.

"We went after the Tinker." Truth. I guess that's what I'm going with here. Would I lie? Would lying help? Probably not. "He had henches. Automatic weapons. Something that blocked my powers." And how the _fuck_ did that work? _When_ had he made something like that? "...it caught me by surprise."

"It _caught you by surprise_." I _don't_ flinch, at her tone. "And my _daughter_ was _shot_."

I still don't understand that one. "She was trying to protect me-"

"I'd gathered as much."

Silence. I fight not to curl in on myself.

"Crow...I think it'd be best if you left, now."

...right.

I stand. And turn away. Tear my mask off, throw my hood back, and focus on _breathing_ as the wind washes over me. Somewhere not too far away, I know there's a dusting of ash on a floor...and some _insipid_ part of my brain points out that making a mess in her house probably didn't do me any favors with Brandish.

Too much. Too quick. I need...to take a break now. Rest. Heal. Think it through.

I fucked up, I got taken by surprise, but that's...not something I haven't recovered from before. It's not. I'm doing better. I found the Tinker, and he had _every_ advantage, and I still got away. _We_...got away.

...barely.

"I'm going home." I feel parched. Wet my lips before trying again. "I'm going home, and I'm going to...make a list. Of all the things I did wrong." I'll work this out. Today was about wrapping up loose ends, but that was obviously too much to expect. Fine. But I can't let it _stop me_.

I _won't_.

This is my problem. The Tinker _made_ it my problem when he targeted me. Or...I made it my problem when I stole from him. Either way, it's not just going to go away. 'Problems don't fix themselves'.

...it's so much easier trying to apply that to a bunch of school bullies than an actual, homicidal maniac.

My phone buzzes, startling me out of my thoughts. And I wonder, as I fish it out of my pocket, just how long I've been standing here like an idiot.

' _Mom says I'm not working with you alone anymore.'_

Victoria. Fully healed and obviously feeling better, if she's texting me. The news itself isn't surprising. That doesn't make it any easier to stomach. Or to reply to. What am I supposed to say?

Another message. I guess I don't _need_ to reply…

' _Talk later, okay?'_

The phone shakes. Makes it kind of hard to type. So I settle for simple.

' _Okay.'_

I slip the phone away as soon as that's sent, and pick up my mask from where I'd dropped it. Putting it on again feels more claustrophobic than usual, but that's...not important.

Going home. Writing a list. Learning from mistakes.

I can do this.

 _[I hope.]_


	37. Chapter 31

I make my way home in a daze; the first thing I do when I get there is crash. Hard.

A couple hours later, I'm hauling myself up off the couch. First, because it's not a comfortable place to sleep (especially not while I'm in costume), but also because I just...I need to get back to work. Do something useful. Or at least something that _feels_ useful.

With everything I've done wrong lately, it doesn't take much time to come up with a list. Times I didn't ask for help, and probably should have. Times I told myself I'd do something and then didn't. Hasty decisions based on bad assumptions. Things I just flat out _forgot._

Now, this list is a bit _longer_ than I would have hoped. But it's nothing I can't fix, moving forward. Starting with the most immediate problem; the Charm that had ruined pretty much _everyone's_ day earlier is marked with a piece of red tape and tossed into the back of my closet, hidden away with my collection of Runes.

There's the list, one line shorter. I feel marginally less like crap.

After that, there isn't actually much to act on. Not while I'm sitting here at home. All I can really do is settle in and review. Think of ways I would have done things differently. Also, get a _very_ late lunch. Or early dinner, at this point. I'm not sure if it's just because I skipped a meal, or if my new healing abilities are playing a part, but I'm _starving_.

The reheated leftovers are gone before I even realize it. Less of a diversion than I would have liked, but...no, that's a good thing. I don't need to be distracting myself from this, just because I don't _like_ thinking about how I got my friend shot. Definitely not. I should be focusing on the list, and maybe take the time to go back over the tinker's notebook...

Maybe I should do the dishes first, though? Yes, that sounds like a plan.

I've just started drying things, when the front door opens. I listen, absently tracking heavy footsteps down the hall, through the living room. Dad pauses, in the door, shopping bag in one hand...and a suitcase in the other? He seems surprised to see me. Which is a little weird since I wasn't exactly being _quiet_.

...actually, thinking about it, it's probably because I'm still wearing most of my costume. My mask's sitting on the table, my coat on a chair, but the rest of it is comfortable enough that I hadn't hadn't really been thinking about it. It must look a _little_ strange. Makes me wonder if _other_ Capes do chores in their costumes-

"Are you going out again?"

Oh. I should actually say something, instead of just standing here. "I got back in a while ago. Just...haven't changed, yet." A dry dish goes in the cabinet, and I turn away from the sink, crossing over to the table to grab my mask. "I _should_ probably go do that-"

"Is that blood?"

"Are those _bullet holes?_ "

Shit.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

'Wearing bloodstained clothes in front of Dad' goes on the List. The List goes on the inside of my door.

It probably should have been the first thing I did, changing into something less...bullet riddled. Now, I have to peel out of my costume with the sound of Dad pacing downstairs to help drive in the point that I got _shot_. Again. It's becoming a disturbingly regular occurrence.

Shouldn't that bother me more?

The skin over what used to be bullet wounds is still pink and raw. Different from the last couple of times; Amy _had_ offered, but I'm pretty sure I only asked her to stop the bleeding. My memory's a little fuzzy on the subject which, in retrospect, makes me question the decision...

No, it was the right call. I can heal on my own now. A little bit of self-sufficiency. That's definitely a good thing.

Less so, having to explain things to Dad again. This day just doesn't want to end, does it?

I toss the bodysuit in with the rest of my laundry, hang up the vest and...shit, I left my coat downstairs. I'll just figure out how to clean it all properly later. For now I'll settle for clean clothes...over dried blood.

God, this day doesn't want to end.

"Alright. Shower first. Then clean clothes. Then, explanations." A straightforward plan for immediate problems. It _should_ be galvanizing.

Really, I just want to curl up in my bed for a day or two...why is this so hard?

I leave the foul temptation of sleep behind, making a beeline for the bathroom. Because I can do this, dammit.

xxxxxxxxxx

One bone-chilling shower and _fresh_ change of clothes later, I finally make my way back downstairs. If I linger a bit longer than necessary at the foot of the stairs? That's just me collecting my thoughts.

Dad is hunched in a chair at the kitchen table, a barely-touched plate sitting between his elbows as he holds his head in his hands. I can't quite make out his expression, from here...and I can't bring myself to move any closer, for a better look. So, instead, I clear my throat. Try not to be bothered by the way he startles, or the expression on his face.

"They were low-caliber rounds."

It comes out more plaintive than I'd hoped. And, a second after I actually _say_ it, I realize that maybe that wasn't the best opening I could have chosen.

The strangled noise he makes does seem to back that assumption. "Taylor, you were shot." I can't exactly deny it, so I just bite my tongue and nod. "Someone _shot_ you!"

"They caught us by surprise." It takes an effort to get out. Feels weak, under scrutiny. "And it's already healed-"

"Were you even going to _tell me_?"

My silence is answer enough. He screws his eyes shut, fists clenched so tight I can _hear_ his joints creak. But he just breathes, and slumps back heavily in his chair. Opens his hands to press his palms, hard, against the table. "You _told me_. Just this morning, you _said_ that you would keep me in the loop! And now-!"

"It was a mistake." He grits his teeth, a muscle jumping in his jaw. I wrap my arms around my stomach, scratch at the sudden _itch_ of healing skin, under my shirt. He doesn't try to pick back up, doesn't try to talk over me. Just takes another deep breath, red creeping up his neck. "I screwed up, and I got hurt...I got my _friend_ hurt."

He opens his eyes again, blinking rapidly. I pretend not to notice. "What were you even doing? Were you going after that...that 'bone tinker' again?"

"I was trying to follow up on a lead with Victoria. We found one of his henches…and I thought we could follow him, stop them from setting up somewhere new."

"On your _own_."

It's not a question. And he's not impressed. I feel a spike of anger, at his tone. "I know."

" _Taylor_ -"

"I _know_ , dad!"

He takes a sharp breath. I dig my heels in, to get _my_ side out first-

 _~I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint. I do not feel ashamed!~_

We both turn to look at my coat, _some_ of the tension bleeding out of the room as the muffled music starts to loop. After another few seconds, dad turns to look at me again.

I sigh, and rub at my eyes. Trying in vain to work out some of the tension building there. "Victoria was playing with my phone.."

He smiles. Even if it's a little forced, strained around his eyes. And when I move to dig the thing out, he turns his attention to the plate still sitting in front of him.

The ringing stops before I can find it to answer. I fish it out of its interior pocket anyway, and take a few seconds to just _compose_ myself, because barely ten seconds pass before it starts up again. And despite everything, I seriously consider just not answering.

Not for very long, of course. I pick up after the second ring.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Victoria sounds tired. And decidedly _not_ cheerful. Maybe she hadn't just shaken things off, once she'd gotten healed up. "I know it's kind of late, but I figured I should give you a call."

I sigh, turn away from the table and move to the door. "It's fine. I'm not sure when I'll be able to get to sleep, anyway." With some vague semblance of privacy gained, I lean in the door frame, close my eyes and rest my head against the jamb. "What's up?"

"Mom spent about an hour on the phone with Aunt Sarah." There's a creak; Victoria's bed, probably. She does seem to hole up in her room a lot, when she's on the phone. "And as much as I hate to be 'that girl'...you want the good news, or the bad?"

Knew _that_ was coming. Doesn't take any of the punch out of it. "I think I'll take the good, first."

"That's fair." There's a hint of her usual grin in her voice. Just for a moment. "The good news is that everyone's gearing up for one more shot at this guy. And you still rate an invite, seeing as none of _us_ can counter him if he tries to pull that mirror-trick again."

I don't _think_ that'd be possible since he doesn't have more of my blood, but…gift horse. Mouth. "I'm _more_ than willing to see this through."

"Yeah, well, that's sort of where the bad news comes in. Because we're going after him tomorrow. And if he gets away again…" She trails off, and I open my eyes. Chew my lip, as the silence drags on. Until, finally, "Taylor, if he gets away again, my mom is going to the Protectorate with everything we know about the guy."

I blink. Stare at nothing. Remember, after just a little too long, to breathe. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Including what you know about me."

"Everything short of outing you."

It's bitter. She doesn't like it either. Somehow, I manage to find that reassuring. And...really, how am I supposed to respond to that?

"Okay."

"What? Seriously?" Frustration. I can just _see_ her, sitting up, scowling at her phone. "I think that deserves a _slightly_ stronger response than ' _okay'_."

"You got shot today." I take a deep breath, comb my hair back fitfully. "And I don't even want to _think_ about how many people he's killed. So yeah. 'Okay' is all I've got, at this point."

"...exactly how long did you spend agonizing over trying to tell me this stuff?"

"And how much good did that actually do me, in the end?"

She snorts. I smile. There's quiet, on the line.

"I guess that's that then." More creaking, shifting. She yawns, and it takes an actual effort not to immediately echo it. "See you tomorrow then? Probably not until noon-ish. Plenty of time for rest, food, recon...the usual stuff."

I nod. "Just give me a call when you need me."

"Will do. Bye, friend."

"Bye."

She hangs up, and I do the same. And then it's just...I take a deep breath. Let it out as slowly as I can.

"So, tomorrow. I'll be going with New Wave to take another shot at the tinker. And if he gets away, Brandish is going to the Protectorate with everything, including the connection between our powers."

Silverware clicks, scrapes. "I suppose I'll hold down the fort, then. Maybe break out the old rolodex." I turn to shoot my dad a skeptical look, and he smirks, despite the tense concern deepening the lines around his eyes. "Cape Law can't be _that_ much different from Contract Law."

I can't help it. I laugh. Pretty soon, he's laughing too. It's a great distraction from the massive, murderous elephant in the room.

In the end, I don't linger. Not willing to risk facing that again. End the night on a high note, so that I can be ready for tomorrow.

 _[I forget to question the suitcase still sitting at Dad's feet.]_

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

Sleep doesn't come easily. I toss and turn for hours, before finally drifting off...and even that isn't peaceful. Restful. Groggy, waking minutes spread out between anxious, confusing dreams. By the time my alarm goes off at eight, I'm more than willing to abandon the whole thing.

The moment I'm upright, of course, I want nothing more than to collapse back into bed. Instead, I hit the showers, and set about getting ready.

First, my costume. The bodysuit and pants go in the wash, the vest and coat go under the tap...I get out as much blood as I can manage, before leaving them to dry. With that done, I check over my batons, my mask...spend a few minutes kicking myself for leaving the crossbow I'd taken from Shadow Stalker at Victoria's place _again_. She'd tried to remind me, I'd tried to remember, but after the whole mess yesterday it'd completely slipped my mind. Maybe I'd have the chance to grab it today, before...whatever was going to happen.

Charms next. I pick them up, sort them out...the precog Charm, the one for 'I'm being watched'. I debate the momentum Charm for a moment, before setting it aside and grabbing 'stick the landing'...and I should really come up with something better than that to call these things. Maybe based on their effects...Thinker Charms and Mover Charms? Something to consider.

I nearly jump out of my skin when Dad knocks on my door, fumble the belt I'd been threading Charms onto. "Y-yeah?"

"Breakfast is downstairs, when you're ready."

"Thanks, Dad."

Footsteps, down the hall, then the stairs. I shake myself out, toss the belt onto my bed. "Breakfast."

Knew I was forgetting something.

Breakfast, as it turns out, is a double portion of bacon, eggs, and peanut-butter toast. ' _For a hard work-day'_ is Dad's explanation, but I almost wonder if this is some sort of...strange, passive-aggressive way to keep me from actually going out. With the way my stomach is doing flips, I can't say it wouldn't be effective.

Or, I wouldn't have. But once I actually sit down, my appetite returns with a vengeance.

I go for seconds. Dad shakes his head, and hides behind his paper.

By eleven, I'm about as collected as I could hope to be. All that's left is waiting for the call.

Sitting.

Waiting.

When my phone buzzes, I 'port across the room to pick it up. Which, I guess, wasn't entirely necessary.

' _usual place cu there'_

Alright then. ' _Bring the crossbow, please?'_

' _Fine bring ur creepy.'_

I roll my eyes. But I'm smiling, as I pull my mask into place. ' _On my way.'_

' ' _omw' tylr lern 2 txt yr 2lame4me '_

I'm not going to dignify that with a response. Instead, I tuck my phone away and open my door. "Dad! I'm headed out!"

There's a brief (but noticeable) pause before he responds. "Stay safe, Taylor!"

Not much chance of that. But, "I'll do my best!"

And then I'm gone.

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

It's a miserable sort of morning. Not five minutes in the open, and I'm already wondering why I bothered putting my costume through the drier.

The rain isn't heavy, but it's _constant_. And given that I'm traveling mostly by rooftop, there's no real way to avoid it. Weighing down my coat, seeping through my hood and the cowl of my mask to trickle down my neck...ugh.

I'll just have to get used to it. At least the cold is manageable. And my costume doesn't seem to be chafing...yet.

Traveling at an easy pace means I reach the meeting point in a little under ten minutes. New Wave, of course, has already arrived. And of course, they've avoided the worst of the elements by sheltering under a set of glowing shields.

Glory Girl is grinning, as I close the last few feet, holding out the crossbow expectantly. "Jeeze, Crow. Gotta be honest, you look like a drowned r-"

"I will shoot you."

She laughs, but it trails off under Brandish's sour look, and she hands the crossbow over without further comment.

Which seems to be about the order of the day, because the rest of New Wave offer only nods and tight smiles in greeting. The members that actually bother to acknowledge me beyond a glance. I'm sure it _would_ have been more awkward, if Lady Photon hadn't cleared her throat to draw everyone's attention almost immediately.

"I'm sure you all remember our last attempt at this." A few more shared glances. I try to ignore the way they linger on me. "We're going to make our way to the Tinker's new hideout in the same groups as before." She turns to me directly, then. "Crow, once we're close enough, you'll be setting Panacea down with Shielder, and joining the rest of us inside."

She gestures toward her husband as she continues. "Manpower will be taking point, and I'll be right behind him. From what I understand, the interior is fairly cramped. We'll have a defensive advantage, but our offensive options will be limited without risking structural damage."

Glory Girl frowns, and crosses her arms. "You actually _looked at me_ while you said that."

"Crystal has yet to crash through any walls in order to make her entrances." It's chiding, but Lady Photon is smiling as she says it. I _almost_ make a comment about encouraging reckless behavior, but...I think better of it. "Crow, _your_ objective is to keep the tinker from attempting to escape through... _esoteric_ means." I tense, as she steps forward to rest a hand on my shoulder. "Just let us take care of the rest."

I'm reasonably sure she didn't mean it to sound like it does. That doesn't quite keep it from stinging. "...I'll do my best."

"That's all we can ask."

Brandish doesn't seem to agree. Even if Glory Girl is giving me a thumbs up.

"Alright then." Lady Photon nodded sharply, waved at Shielder...the field above us drops, and the rain returns. I try not to hunch into my coat, too much, and I can already see I'm not the only one. Still, nobody complains, as we shuffle around into our 'groups'. "Crow will be setting our pace again...whenever you're ready."

I don't bother saying anything. Just hold out an arm for people to hold onto.

A thought occurs.

"I'm not...actually sure I remember where we're going?"

Nearest me, Panacea sighs heavily. Manpower just chuckles, and gives me the address before pointing the way.

Not the best start. But I'll make do.

I'll have to.


	38. Chapter 32

It doesn't take long before I start picking up on landmarks. Yesterday had been hectic (to say the least), but I've gotten better at recognizing things from above. Navigating by skyline.

A necessary Cape skill, I guess?

One that proves a little less than vital, when my Mark starts to prickle, a few blocks out.

"Hold on." I stop, carefully freeing my arm, to reach out. To focus on that sensation, try and _feel_ it out-

I hiss, and jerk my hand back. Because what it felt like was the sound of tortured wood, pulsing up my arm and into my jaw. A smell like the decomposing corpse I'd stumbled across not so long ago. A full-body cringe hits me a moment later, along with a sharp pain behind my eyes.

 _ **[iMpuDEncE]**_

 _That_ feeling is familiar, too. It's like pushing through those mirrors. Something blocking my power...rebounding it. Something.

"What's going on?" Manpower. He's wary, already scanning the rooftop for problems.

I just shake my head, wait a few more seconds for the others to arrive. Let everyone know at once.

"He's got some kind of defense up." And now that I'm actually paying attention to it, I'm not _actually_ feeling the Rune from before. Just...an empty echo of it. Insubstantial. I grit my teeth, turn to catch Victoria's eye. "He must have figured out how I've been finding him."

"It's been less than a day. It's unlikely he'll have had a chance to clear everything out." Lady Photon hadn't even bothered to touch down, but as she speaks she lifts even further into the air. Looking ahead like the extra few feet will let her see the place from here. "If he's putting up defenses, then he still has a reason to protect his workshop."

Brandish smiles, beside me, but there's nothing particularly happy about it. "He's more likely to still be there." Her eyes dart to me, just for a moment. "Along with his men."

The ones with guns. That shot her daughter. I _didn't_ actually miss the implication.

"Is there anything preventing you from taking us closer?" Manpower again, and I have to look away from the concern in his expression.

It's appreciated. I guess. But I just want this to be over with. And honestly...the pain doesn't really frighten me anymore. "No way to tell until we _get_ closer."

Brandish nods, reaching for my arm again. "Then let's get moving."

"Agreed." Lady Photon waves the fliers on, and offers me a nod before taking off herself. Glory Girl gives me an encouraging smile, in passing, and I try my best to return it.

Realize _I'm_ actually wearing a mask. Which, of course, makes me glad for that, because it means nobody can prove anything.

Distractions aren't helping. I look ahead, make sure everyone is making contact, and move on.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

Around the corner, a block from the mouth of this alley, is a red-painted door. Probably locked. Most likely guarded.

"Can you see anyone from here?"

I don't have a chance to answer before Glory Girl cuts in. "We're too far out, mom. She'd have to go ahead."

Brandish pulls a face, sweeps wet hair from her eyes, but doesn't actually respond. Lady Photon just nods, absently. Most of her focus seems to be on the street. Watching sparse, late-morning traffic as it hisses by. "Crow, you'll be delivering Manpower to the entrance. Then fall back with Shielder and Flashbang. Brandish, rearguard."

It seems like there are a few members of the team left out of that. Something that doesn't go unnoticed, if Glory Girl's indignant frown is anything to go by.

"Laserdream, Glory Girl, you'll be above. If anyone tries to escape, you'll be there to stop them. And in a good position to support Panacea."

Who doesn't seem very surprised at being left behind. For a second, I can't help wondering about that. But then, it doesn't seem like an appropriate thing to comment on. Not right now, anyway. Maybe not at all.

"If everyone's ready?"

A chorus of positive responses. Everyone seems so confident. And I can't help but think that everyone was confident last time we did this. I know _I'd_ felt like we'd actually get this guy. But then, every time we've actually met it seems like he's come out on top.

The streak has to end _some_ time, right?

"Crow?"

"I'm good." I lift my crossbow, pat the holsters with my batons, and hold out my free hand for Manpower. "Whenever you're ready."

He nods, and wraps his hand around mine. There's a moment of tension, glances and nods and a couple of muttered 'good luck's. And then Lady Photon sweeps into the air, off toward the workshop.

I focus on the red door, give Manpower's arm a sharp _tug_ -

-and step aside so that he has a clear path. There's no hesitation; the moment I'm clear, he slams forward, fast enough to sweep the hem of my coat after him. The door slams open, whatever locks that _had_ been holding it shut torn right through the frame. For a second, I can only stare.

But then Lady Photon flies in after him. Shielder and Flashbang fall in beside me, the flash of orange light behind us signalling Brandish's arrival.

No time to wonder.

Enhanced vision. Three bodies. The ground floor, doesn't look like anyone is upstairs today. They are carrying things. Boxes maybe. And already reacting to the noise of the door, despite being further in.

I slip inside with the others. Not far down the hall, Manpower is padding forward with his arms up, almost blocking the view ahead entirely. Lady Photon hovers just over his shoulder with a handful of glowing power. Now that we're in, they don't seem to be in too great a hurry to push forward.

Ahead, one of the men is gesturing sharply to the others, and it looks like they're...gathering things? Throwing them? They don't seem _frantic_ , but it's still putting me on edge. We _should_ be moving more quickly.

"Up ahead, around the corner. First door. Three men inside."

Lady Photon glances back, looks ahead, and grips Manpower's shoulder. They pick up the pace, and so do we. Around the corner.

Through the door.

Manpower rushes the first man he sees. Lady Photon sweeps right, a glowing field springing up in front of her as a beam fires toward the second.

Brandish moves right. Shielder squares himself, beside me. I lift my crossbow, turning it on number three-

 _Bones rattle_.

Suddenly, Manpower's target is in front of _me_ , and I swing the crossbow on instinct. Catch it with both hands, the shock of the impact running up my arms as the stock catches his swing.

Lumps, growths, under the skin of his face. Swollen jaw. He smiles, and there are far too many teeth, jutting out of irritated gums.

Around his neck, a blood-smeared charm.

I let go of the crossbow, fall into Shielder-

-and reposition us on the opposite side of the room.

" _Fuck_."

Manpower's target is... _shivering_. Difficult to look at, as he weaves around another blow. Something that _looks_ like a knife flashes out, only for a flash of light from Lady Photon to send him scurrying back. In the meantime, toothy is already trying to follow us.

My eyes land on the Charm again, and I stall. Only manage to move again once Brandish hits the guy from behind with her glowing sword.

"Pen him in." I point at Manpower's opponent, and Shielder obliges. Toothy recovers, shivers hits a shield, and I-

-shove the first-

-into the second. Duck back under Manpower's arm as he wades in.

A moment to breathe, as the first blow lands-

" _Ghh_!"

Lady Photon. Slamming herself into the ceiling...no. Trying to catch the _third_ man between herself and the ceiling. He's clinging to her back, an arm around her neck. Brandish shouts, wordless, angry. She moves to assist, but-

-I'm already there, scrabbling to find purchase before I drop again. My fingers catch an edge, fabric. It pulls and stretches as I fall, and when my feet touch the floor I _pull_. There's a muffled curse, struggling, and then impact driving me off balance as Lady Photon rolls out of the loosened grip.

When I feel resistance, finally realize that I've pulled the collar of this guy's sweater up over his head, I pull _harder_ , and let myself fall. We hit the ground-

-but I'm on my feet again in the blink of an eye, and stomping on his exposed ribs a moment later. Bone cracks, and he lets out a breathless, muffled scream.

I kick him in the stomach, just for good measure, then drop to my knees to claw the Charm from where it'd gotten trapped. Bone. Still _bleeding_. Looks like more ribs, but there's a smaller piece, just as fresh, carved with the Outsider's mark...it's glowing? Starting to glow-

There's a spark, and I drop the Charm, shaking my hand out. What the hell…?

"Crow!"

I look up, just in time to-

- _barely_ avoid a fist to the face. Toothy, using some distraction or another to slip between the others. Manpower is already darting after him...and Shivers makes a break for a door, opposite the one we'd come in. I almost move to follow, but then a ball of light hits the floor in front of him...I barely have the time to think ' _Flashbang'_ before the explosion of light blinds us both.

 _Dammit_.

I'm outside, in the hall. I _think_. Blinking stars (and tears) from my eyes, trying to pay attention to the noise in the next room. Can't just stay here, don't know how long I'll take to recover... _my_ sight.

Rats. _Control_.

Rodent-vision isn't exactly up to human standards, but it's better than nothing. A couple of my rats scurry up my coat to cling to my shoulders giving me a rough idea of my surroundings as I storm back into the room. The _rest_ of them swarm around my feet, before scurrying ahead to find something to _hurt_.

Toothy is my unfortunate target, mostly because Shivers seems to have gone down to Lady Photon and Shielder in the last few seconds. He seems to be holding his own against Manpower, maneuvering to keep the brute between him and Brandish. Good timing, maybe. Or just skill. Doesn't really matter, when half a dozen rats spring out of nowhere and start clawing their way under your clothes.

It throws him off. Manpower lands a solid hit. And he crumples.

The stillness falls as suddenly as the fighting started. Not really quiet, because henches are groaning, and we're _all_ breathing heavily.

"They had powers." Shielder, hovering over Shivers. "He gave them powers?"

Apparently. Which I don't _get_. He went through so much trouble trying to make these things work. He killed people trying to find the right 'materials', he attacked me for my _blood_...I take a deep breath, scatter my rats to search the area before stalking over to Toothy.

"Turn him over for me?"

Manpower gives me a wary nod, but does just that, turning the man on his back. I _don't_ try to take the Charm, this time, crouching down to try and get a better look instead. It takes some squinting, past what's _still_ a disorienting blur in my vision, but it does seem like the other. Too fresh...too _rough_ , altogether. A rush job? And that bit linking the two 'prongs' together, that's new.

"Does this look familiar?" I pull one of my batons, don't bother extending it just to point out the part that's bothering me.

Manpower leans down. Pensive, I think. "...fingerbone." A pause. "Check his right hand."

I do that, grabbing his arm...forcing myself not to tense when he shifts, and Manpower wraps a hand around his head to prush him down.

No struggle. I put my discomfort aside, tug at the suddenly-uncooperative hand…

A missing finger, the remaining stub crusted over with...more bone. Knotted, warped...like his teeth. Or his _skull_.

"He was hitting hard. Definitely a Brute. But he was favoring his right."

Because he was missing a finger.

"Because the tinker used his finger to make _that_." I jump, look up to see Lady Photon hovering (metaphorically) over me. "Shielder, Flashbang, check the others."

"Probably the same." I mutter, turning back to the hand. "He figured it out, somehow…" Worked out what was missing? Blood, bone, some kind of connection? I could use the others he'd made, but nobody _else_ could without my blood. And when I picked up one of _these_ , things he'd made using pieces from the people _using_ them…

"This one's missing a finger."

"This one, too."

I scowl. Reach down to rip the Charm from around Toothy's neck and toss it away. "So he can give his guys powers."

"Left him more willing to let them clear his workshop on their own, it seems like." Brandish scowls, stalking to the single table standing against the wall. Almost bare, a few tools scattered across it's surface. I take another look around, actually _looking_...for all the space here, it's too empty. The table, there, a couple of collapsing chairs. A crate, shoved haphazardly into the corner, a hand-truck tipped over beside it...they _were_ moving things when we got here.

The last of it, maybe.

I try not to let the _frustration_ get to me, as I move in to take a closer look. Try not to think about how long we spent just making our way _here_. Let alone what I did with the rest of my morning. While I was having breakfast, this guy was getting away again…

I frown, worm my fingers up under my mask to wipe at my eyes. My vision has definitely recovered, so I'm not seeing things, here…

My rats finally vanish, as I lean over the edge to poke around the tool boxes and carved, wood panels. This is a big crate, for how little is in it.

"There must be more. Somewhere else." Upstairs? I don't actually _know_ they're the only ones in this building, but...I can probably assume. "Maybe upstairs."

"Alright." Lady Photon looks up from her examination of Toothy. "Brandish, go with her. Shielder, call the others, tell them to watch out for potential reinforcements. Let them know they might have powers."

He's already pulling out his phone. And Brandish is moving for the door that...Shivers tried to run for. Right. It's either another way out, or more workshop. Maybe with something useful in it.

Or it could be another hallway.

"Staircase?" I nod to the right, and the narrow stairway further down that way.

Brandish considers it, for a second, before shaking her head. "We'll check the ground floor first." That said, she heads left, toward the nearest door. A sword forms in her hand as she settles in beside it, her free hand on the knob. I move to the other side, extend my baton with a flick…

She shoves the door open, turns into the room, and I follow a step after.

Nearly lose my balance, trying to avoid running into Brandish's back-

Blood. What can only be described as _offal_.

Brandish stumbles back, a hand pressed over her mouth as she gags, but I just...can't.

Six bodies, spread around the room. They're still...recognizably human, but that's about the best that can be said for them. The floor is a _mess_ , just _blood_ and...and things I don't want to examine too closely. There's so much it's forming puddles _on the carpet_ , rather than just being...absorbed…

And the centerpiece of it all? A Shrine of heavy hardwood and heavy, metal wire that digs into the skin of the corpse that's crucified there.

'Corpse' because that's the only thing she _can_ be, at this point. With her chest carved open, ribs splayed wide…

I don't realize I've moved until I'm close enough to just...reach out and touch her. Until I can look up into her face, half-hidden behind her long hair...what's _left_ of her face, once someone had gotten to her eyes and mouth with something sharp.

My stomach churns, and everything in me protests, but I reach up anyway...to touch the plastic watch-face stapled into the surface of her heart.

" _Why_?"

"Because it was a challenge."

I freeze.

"Because he'd finally found his solution, and was flush with victory, and willing to fulfill a request."

I take a jerky, halting step back. Look up at her again. Beside me, the Outsider does the same.

" _Because_ , Taylor...he finally _could_."

I take a deep breath, swallow thickly...look behind me to see Brandish, leaning halfway out of the room. Calling to the others, maybe.

 _ **[** And the sparking thing behind her, shifting in agitation, uncertainty… **]**_

"His work has been so... _derivative_. I'm not surprised to see _this_." The Outsider waves a hand and just...takes her heart. Holding it in the air above his hands, turning it in place and _watching_ like it's some kind of...snow globe, or paperweight. Not a ruined piece of a _person_ , cut and stapled and...and jammed full of _metal_.

"But then, even unfinished, even abandoned in haste...an _imperfect_ replica can be interesting in its own right. Don't you think?"

"That was part of a _person_."

I feel numb, as he looks up at me.

And then he turns away, and vanishes, only to reappear behind the girl. Precariously balanced on the back of the shrine, one hand clinging to a spar while the other holds the heart up to the light. "Do you know her name, Taylor?"

The numbness disappears beneath a flare of _anger_. "Do _you_?"

"Sarah...Livsey." Whatever faint amusement had been in his tone drops away, replaced by...indifference. My anger is smothered under that feeling of _smallness_ from the rooftop not so long ago. "Or Lisa Wilbourn. Though, I believe _you_ might know her better as 'Tattletale'."

"Tat-"

No.

No, she was… "She was in PRT custody-" And she'd been attacked, there.

'Suffered a psychotic break'.

And now she's dead. Here. Now.

This…

"Where is he?" Silence. A yawning emptiness, below me. I grit my teeth against the feeling, steel myself.

 _ **[** Brace aGainst my fragiLe suRrounding. **]**_

" _Where_. Is. He?"

A timeless moment passes, before the Outsider shifts again. Standing in front of me, _smiling_ down at me, despite the fact that I _know_ , I _know_ that he isn't that tall, his eyes aren't _that_ dark...

"I have no inclination to guide you to him." His attention shifts, past me. "But, perhaps…"

 _ **[** "...with the right tools…" **]**_

The heart drops, to rest directly in his hand. And then it... _pulses_. Just once.

 _ **[** And in that moment, there's a flicker of form. A spark, and something much greater, behind. **]**_

"Perhaps _what_?"

He tilts his hand. Another pulse. And then another.

 _ **[** The spark, and the thing with eyes are more clear each time. Behind me, something reaches- **]**_

A spike of pain drives itself into my skull, and whatever I'd been about to say is just...lost. I gasp. I whine, dropping my baton to clutch at my head.

 _ **[RemNanT oF hOst. LiNk intAcT?]**_

"Perhaps you _will_ see this through."

 _ **[ReEstaBliShinG coNneCtiOn. aDapTinG to NeW iNTerfAce.]**_

"F- _fuck_." It _hurts_ , to look at it. The heart. The _Heart_ , beating, lit from within, it's-

 _ **[** -being stitched into something. A...a spirit? A ghost? Or Is iT a SoU- **]**_

I slump. Gasping for breath. Sticky _red_ soaking into the arms of my coat, the legs of my pants, because I'm kneeling in blood. I'm kneeling in blood, and I can hear footsteps, and there's cold sweat bringing back the chill from my time outside-

"You may want to hurry home." _His_ voice echoes from somewhere just over my shoulder. "The storm is getting worse."

Worse…?

" _Crow_!"

I startle, struggle to my feet. Weave, only to catch myself on...on the Shrine. _Fuck_.

Lady Photon is staring at me, worry and caution warring on her face. "Are you with us?"

Us?

Oh. Brandish, at the door. Manpower, just outside. "I'm…" Maybe. My head...isn't about to split apart. Good enough. Probably. "I am. I'm-"

A heartbeat, heavy in my ears. I stiffen, and push away from the Shrine. The Heart is there, a dull glow fading from somewhere inside...and then it beats again, the glow returning, only to start fading again.

Slow. Steady.

I...I reach up to take it. It comes loose with a wet _pop_.

" _Jesus_."

I don't know who said it. Maybe it was me. I'm too focused on this... _thing_ to wonder. Because _this_...this is…

"Crow?" I don't respond. _Can't_. Until a hand comes to rest on my shoulder, and I jolt. " _Taylor_. I need you to put that thing down. Can you do that for me?"

Oh _God_ , I'm holding someone's heart. I'm holding _Tattletale's_ heart. And it's _beating_ -

"I have to get home." Isn't what I'd meant to say, but it's what comes out of my mouth. _Hurry_ home, he said. Because of a storm? 'The storm was getting worse'? What does that have to do with...with this _horror show_?

' _A storm. Metaphor? Maybe. Tensions are high in the Bay. The ABB ruined, the E88 snapping up their territory, Coil making his moves…'_

"...what?"

' _With the Protectorate fighting to recover lost ground and the PRT adding to the pressure, the whole city is basically one giant powder...keg…'_

I...I recognize that voice? And it's coming from...from the Heart. " _Tattletale_?"

' _What's today's date?'_

I want to question it. _God_ , I want to question it. But there's urgency, in her tone. And I have to think because what _is_ today's date…?

"Taylor _listen to me_." Lady Photon's grip is tightening. "I need you to put that down, and we need to _leave_."

It'd been...it's Sunday, Tuesday had been...the 10th, I think? "It's the 15th."

' _May 15th. A little over three months, a city on the edge...and it's been raining. All morning? Of course.'_

"Taylor!"

' _I'm sorry, Taylor. Wish I could give you better news. But…'_

"Manpower, bring her with us."

"What about-"

"I'm not going to try to take it from her right now. We need to get her out of here, try to snap her out of it before it hits…"

"What are you _talking about_?"

I don't know who it's directed at. The Cape whose voice I'm hearing from her disembodied heart, the people in front of me who seem...afraid?

I don't know what sort of answer I was expecting. But as everyone falls silent again, I finally pick up on the muffled sound that I'd missed up until now. A steady wail, easily recognizable to anyone who hadn't been living under a rock for the past decade.

Three months. Rain. Endbringer sirens.

Oh.

"Leviathan."


	39. Chapter 33

"I have to…"

Home. I have to get home. Because the storm is getting worse.

"I have to go home."

Turning away from the Shrine, they're watching me. All of them. But that's not...not important. Because I have to-

"Alright."

Brandish starts, at that. Pale disgust, outrage maybe. "What!? She can't just-!"

"Carol, not _now_." I flinch, as Lady Photon reaches out to grab my arm again. "Listen, Taylor. When all of this is over, you're going to come to _me_. And we're going to have a long talk with the Protectorate about this situation."

What-?

"Do you hear me? _Immediately_ after."

"Fine." I pull free. Ignore the churning in my stomach as the carpet _squelches_ under my boot. "I'm leaving-" She's already halfway to the door. "-now." Leaving…

' _So you don't want to know what that was all about?'_

The Heart finds its way into a pocket of my coat, then the baton on the floor. Manpower is shouldering through the door-

-so I don't bother with it, skipping straight to the hallway-

-then the empty workshop, because _that's_ where I left the crossbow. Not leaving that behind again. Not making the same mistakes. 'Keep track of my things' is right there on that list.

 _Hurry home._

The rain has gotten worse. A few seconds on the rooftop, trying to orient myself, is enough for it to cut right through my coat. But that isn't _important_ , because...home. That way.

"Crow!" Victoria. She sweeps up beside me, eyes wide. "Did he seriously get away!?"

Yes, he got away. He ran again. "I need to go."

"Shit, right-"

"I need to get home."

She's nodding. "Your dad." I stumble back, tense, but Victoria just squeezes tighter before letting me go, darting away again. "Go. You can catch up once he's okay."

And then she's away, slicing through the rain.

I…

I'm wasting time here.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

The streets are packed, as I fly overhead. Police trying to direct hundreds, thousands of people. I catch sight of a few idiots trying to _drive_ through the mess-

But details aren't important right now. I don't pay that much attention.

Five minutes, at a rush. It seems like an eternity. But then I'm home, then I hit the sidewalk, and...and…

The door is open. Broken _in_.

 ** _[_** _No._ ** _]_**

Can't see inside, can't hear anything over the sirens. _Powers_. I have powers. So I step-

-onto the porch, crouch down beside the door, and enhance my vision. There's...there's a body on the floor, near the stairs, surrounded by a swarm of...bugs, I think, and someone at the _top_ of the stairs, slumped against a wall. _That_ body is moving.

 ** _[_** F _uck, oh god pLeASe nO. **]**_

"Dad!?"

He startles. Looks up. And I hear, faint, hoarse, "Taylor!?"

It's him. He's okay. I swallow, and...and sweep the house one more time, before-

-appearing beside him.

 _ **[** No no nO no no **]**_

Blood. On his hands. On the leg he's got his shirt pressed against. He's pale, sweating. Alive, but-

"Dad…" Dad, he's alive, but he's hurt. Shit, _shit_ , he's bleeding. I move-

-for the bathroom, for...for a towel, alcohol-

-to drop beside him. "Dad, what happened? They...what happened?"

He looks up, hisses through gritted teeth. "Henchmen. What else?" His head thumps against the wall, and he looks at me for a moment before pulling his hands away. There's _blood_ , welling up through a...a hole. Bullet hole. Hench men with guns.

I press the towel over the wound. He bites down on a shout, and the drawn out sound of _pain_ that it trails off into, it…

"They came to the door." He mutters once he's recovered, hands shaking as they join mine over the gunshot. "Thought I'd be stupid enough to answer it. In this town?" He grins. I laugh, weak, breathless, involuntary. "Then the sirens went off, and they decided t-to _press_ the issue."

And they _shot_ him…

And judging by the...the _shotgun_ sitting on the floor beside us...Dad returned the favor. "You-?" Killed them? _Obviously_. One of them, at least.

His mouth pulls down in a grimace, and he nods. "Barely got to it in time." He nods toward his bedroom, and the open suitcase upended on the floor. "Caught the first one at the top of the stairs, he clipped _me_ , then…" He shakes his head. "He sort of...exploded, I guess? Made those...those bugs."

More of the tinker's work. It had to be. He...he _sent them here_?

" _Those_ went after the second one, and...well, he's been quiet for a little while now."

I'm pretty sure he's dead. I guess Dad _did_ get both of them. Two birds with one stone.

"...Taylor?"

He's looking at me. Pale, sweating, pained...worried. I take a breath, or try to, but I can't quite hold onto it.

 _ **[** my hands are so warm, why is blood so wArm? **]**_

"I'm fine." It's a choked, obvious lie, but I tell him that anyway, because it's what he needs to hear. It's what I need to say. "I'm fine, but-" no, but that's the important part, that's why I had to get here, "-you're _not_ , and there's an _Endbringer."_

Dad won't make it to a shelter on one leg. With a _bullet wound_.

Not on his own.

"Can you move?"

He swallows, and thumps his head back against the wall again. The muscles in his jaw tense, for a long second, before he nods. "Get a belt."

I go and get a belt. I help my Dad wrap it twice around his leg, and the towel, so that it's directly over the wound. And I help him buckle it in place, since the strength goes out of him as soon as it's pulled tight enough to _do_ that.

I fucking _hate_ it. Seeing him in _pain_ like this is making me _sick_. And when I think about the guy downstairs…

 _ **[** I think thIs is what's called rAge. **]**_

"Just hold on." I pick up the crossbow, from where I'd dropped it. "There's bound to be some kind of help in the shelters." Something, anything, will be better than here.

Dad doesn't say anything, as he grabs my hand and forces his good leg under him. I _pull_ , and he groans behind gritted teeth, but then he's upright, and leaning on me, and we're both-

-outside. And a moment later-

-on the roof across the street. I turn my head, just enough to look down another block-

-and then we're there.

I can't keep that pace up, but...I settle for stopping every _other_ time. Four seconds, standing in the rain with my Dad struggling to stay upright, seems like an eternity. But when we _do_ eventually reach the shelter, and the pressure in my head finally spikes into something _painful_ , I decide that it was probably the right call. Because if we'd had to stop halfway-

"Take him!" I shout over the rain, the noise of the stragglers still making their way in. The police officer, already on approach from his spot near the entrance, picks up the pace. Takes my place, as I duck out from under Dad's arm.

"Where are you going!?"

 _ **[** To do what I hAve to. **]**_

"You're not going to _fight_ that thing?!"

I stop, and take a deep breath. Look back, and see the naked fear on Dad's face.

"I'm not!"

 _ **[** I telL the truth. **]**_

And then, I leave.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

I swallow, staring off toward the bay. You can't see it from here, not really. Too many buildings, and the rain cuts visibility enough to be noticeable. It's... _hard_ to believe that there's an Endbringer coming, right now. That it's going to be _here_. Even with the sirens wailing, with the streets empty-

No. I need to focus on things I can actually do something about. A baton and a few sedative darts? Rats, and bugs, and the ability to see in the dark? What good can that do against a monster that can sink an island? That can stand up against the best heroes and the worst villains and come back _year_ after _year_ for more? There's no point in me trying to fight that.

But a murderous psychopath that sent armed gunmen after my Dad?

 _That_ I can do something about.

' _All evidence to the contrary.'_

The Heart is light. It feels almost fragile, in my hand. But as I lift it up, as that voice echoes softly in my ears, it _pulses_ in time with my Mark.

"I'm _going_ to fix this." I turn away from the Bay, and start walking along the edge of the rooftop. "But I need _you_ to help me find the Tinker."

' _The more things change…_ ' Another pulse. ' _It's not hard to figure out, you know. He runs. He hides. He abandons ship and sends goons in to clean up after him. There's a word for people like that.'_ The inner workings of the Heart move faster, just for a moment. ' _It's 'coward', if you were wondering.'_

I'm not sure I buy that. With the work Amy's done to patch me up after a couple of our 'meetings'.

' _Oh, he's good at catching people by surprise. Attacking from a position of power. But that's not the important part. You want to know where he is?'_

It's a struggle not to snarl. "Yes!"

' _Where does a coward go when an Endbringer comes to town?'_

"...I just took my _Dad_ to a shelter."

' _He wasn't in that_ _one, if it makes you feel better.'_

It does. For all of a second. Because _fuck_. "Which one?"

' _Well, there aren't more than a couple dozen in town...but I'm sure you could narrow it down a little further.'_

The Runes? Would he even have one on him? The guy we followed to the lair yesterday had one, but I hadn't felt it today...hadn't been _looking_ for them, either. I don't think it was still there, so that means either _he's_ got it, or one of his men does. Either way-

I take a deep breath, and close my eyes, reaching out for that _feeling_. Runes, thrumming softly in my head. One, somewhere downtown, hasn't moved since I first 'found' it. The other, off toward the docks, is moving. But I think...no, it _must_ be in the water. So that's unlikely.

The last isn't moving. But it's definitely not in the last workshop.

There's a distant noise, as I open my eyes. Almost like thunder.

' _That would be Leviathan, making landfall.'_

I tuck the Heart away, and step off the roof.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

They're packed in tight. It'd always been uncomfortable, during the drills. I guess it must be worse now, locked in for real. With an Endbringer bearing down.

I think of Dad, and almost immediately shake the image away. Can't focus on that right now.

Looking past the doors doesn't give me anything about the details of the space. But I can see the people, and I can see a _few_ clear spots. Places big enough for me to teleport. I just need to get in, find the Tinker...and get him out before he can hurt anyone. With the number of people here, the confining spaces, I don't even want to think about what he could do.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I'm inside.

A man in front of me screams, stumbling back a half step only to hit another body and stop. That draws attention, and then it's like a ripple running through the crowd, with me at the center. I have a little bit of breathing room...but no sign of the Tinker. Just the feeling of a Rune, deeper in. Deeper down.

I crouch down-

-put myself on the ceiling-

-then across the room, for a better sightline-

-before finally twisting in the air, to hit the stairs at as close to a run as I can manage. Since it involves shoving my way past the startled and, sometimes, panicked people milling around in the stairwell, it's not nearly as fast as I would like.

Only a floor down. I push, pull, _force_ my way ahead. My height is a blessing, here, and my mask sends people reeling, clearing my way even more when it matters. As the seconds tick by, and the shouting rises up behind me, I hone in on the Rune, getting closer, _closer_ -

 _ **[** I can sEE, aheAd, the TaNgled wHispers clinGing abouT HiM **]**_

He turns. I can see him. He sees me too.

I raise the crossbow, and a corridor opens up between us in the time it takes me to blink. People scream. He snarls. The man in black beside him pulls a gun from _somewhere_ , and opens fire at the same time I do.

His shot hits something hard in my shoulder, jerking my arm back. The bolt I'd been aiming at his chest catches him in the neck. As he stumbles back, I swap the crossbow to my now weakened arm, whipping out my baton-

-to catch him in the back of the head with the strongest swing I can muster.

There's a _crack_. He falls. I whirl on the Tinker, hear a sharp _crack_ , and when he drives into me with a spring-loaded tackle-

-I wind up on my back.

On the street.

In the rain.

He scrambles off of me, struggling to his feet, and despite the trouble I'm having trying to _breathe_ right now...I hiss out a laugh.

"You _stupid bitch_!"

Fuck you too.

I roll, push myself up-

-supporting myself against a car, across the street. The Tinker's in front of me, now, spinning in place as he tries to keep me in sight. The winter coat he was wearing was starting to smoke, probably that jet-pack _thing_ he'd been wearing yesterday, and his jeans are ripped where the mechanisms in his boots had obviously been hidden. But it _looks_ like he's unarmed. If the bodyguard and... _Lisa's_ insight mean anything at all, then I might just have the advantage this time.

Somehow, I manage to raise my voice enough to be heard. "If you want to give up, now's your chance!"

His response is to shout another curse, and trigger the jets beneath his coat.

 _Fine_.

I lift the crossbow and-

-fire as I drop. My timing was off; the bolt misses by at least two feet. But then I spin, and catch him across the back of his legs with my baton. Catch a glimpse of _him_ spinning in the air, before I'm forced to move again-

-to keep from hitting the ground. I end up facing _down_ at an industrial AC unit, with just enough time to get my feet under me before my stomach flips and I drop into an awkward landing.

On a rooftop across the street, the Tinker finds his footing again, and takes off with another assisted leap.

I'm getting _really_ sick of that.

But what else can I do, except follow him?

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

I hit him in passing a couple more times. He catches me by surprise and nearly buries a folding knife in my neck. I teleport in to try and drag him down with me. He plants a boot in my stomach and fires off that piston-thing. I'm stalled, emptying my stomach in an alleyway (and thankfully not in my _mask_ ), but less than a minute later I've caught up with him and returned the favor with a surprise teleport into something _hard_.

He gets up, of course. And, after a few moments to recover, I follow him.

I try rats, summoning them while I'm clinging to an outstretched arm, falling through the air. Throwing them from above, when he manages to shake off the first group. They bite, and scratch, so he drops to street level and washes them away in the flood below. And instead of trying his hand at flying again, he breaks into a jet assisted _sprint_ , bounding down the block and around the corner before I can react to the drowning rats.

A few of them cling, soaked and ragged, to the inside of my coat, the legs of my pants, and then I'm after him again.

It's harder, down here. With buildings to block my line of sight, I have to depend on the Rune he's got with him, anticipate which way he's going to go so I can get _ahead_. I nearly clothesline him, two blocks over, but he skids into an alleyway at the last second. Catch him with the rats, not long after, but not soon enough, because they vanish before they can do anything _effective_.

He's caught on, by my third attempt. Ready with that knife. Practically frothing at the mouth, throwing himself at me to put all his weight behind the point. _It hits my perforated body armor, splits something in my chest with a wet snap. I feel a very real, very sharp pain, realize he has to have hit my heart_ -

-but then I hit the street behind him with a splash, rolling to a stop and nearly losing my weapons in the process. By the time I've recovered my footing, stopped squinting past the _pain_ in the back of my head, he's gone again. Still running. _Bastard_.

I teleport another block down, toward the Rune.

I arrive _in front of a group of Capes, costumes, masks I don't recognize. There's a moment of panic, surprise and confusion and fear on both sides, and I turn just in time to see something huge_ _before-_

I arrive-

-and scrabble at the gravel, the tar underneath. My head spins, _throbbing_ , and my vision flashes, but I realize suddenly that I can't just _stand here_ , because that was-

-Leviathan.

It looks _warped_. Uneven. Awful. I watch as it sweeps its tail and a handful of Capes I now only vaguely recognize are sliced apart.

 _Fuck_.

I sniff, cough, as something wet and warm mingles with the water soaking through my mask. In the few seconds it takes me to sweep my fingers up and under the fabric, to realize that it's _blood_ , the Endbringer has made its way down a side-street, Capes of all sorts moving to follow.

The Rune is still below.

I wipe away the blood, and focus past the pain, and _put_ myself-

-right beside it.

The Tinker turns to look at me, over his shoulder, before heaving the man he'd been dragging up against a window that _somehow_ has remained unscathed. A Cape, red and black and a dark, sharp mask...I have the time to recognize him from my research (Victor, Empire Eighty-Eight) before the knife cuts across his throat. Before he's pushed back even harder, and pulled to one side, blood smearing-

-smearing across the reflective glass.

" _No_ -"

 _ **[CeASe]**_

"Fuck you!"

 _ **[** rrEefFusssAlLl **]**_

He falls into the glass, as Victor spasms and burns to ash from the inside. I hit the window a second later, the Mark on my hand burning, so _focused_ on the space on the other side that it barely takes a thought to-

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

"-ouldn't just _leave me alo-"_

My…

"-t _no!_ No, you had to fucking-"

... _head_.

It's so bright. It hurts to look. I groan, and try to turn away, but it's a struggle to move. A struggle to pull my fingers tight around the...baton. That's my baton. I need that to-

" _No_!" Impact, pressure against my hand. Something that isn't pain, as the bones grind against each other. "No, you don't get to do this! Not anymore! I've _finally_ fixed it! It's _finally_ working!" The boot lifts, presses against my side, and-

 _Crack_

-sends me tumbling, uncontrolled, across the asphalt. _Real_ pain blossoms, for the first time in days, and suddenly I have trouble breathing. My _ribs_ …

"You don't _get_ to win this! No with _my_ things! Not when _everything_ you have you've _taken_ from _me_!"

The Tinker. I blink away tears, squint at the blurry figure moving toward me.

"You're _dead_! You and that blonde bitch, and her family, and then I'm going to turn your _father_ into _parts_ -"

He's standing over me, drawing back for another kick-

-but I'm already above him. Falling on top of him. Hitting the ground again brings back the _pain_ , drives out what little breath I'd managed to recover; I can't do anything but lay there, for a very long moment. Heat flares, bright and blue, against my coat. It smoulders, hisses, but it's still soaked through. It doesn't catch, as I recover, as I grab at whatever I can reach.

He rolls. I force myself to follow. I'm on top of him, we're face to face. He claws at the ground, reaching for...knife. Knife. I grab his sleeve, pull his arm back, and then I'm reaching for it too. He gets a handful of my coat, and pulls. I pull back, but I can't reach the knife. Can't let him get it. Can't breathe. Can't hold on forever.

"Just... _fucking_... _ **die!**_ "

I don't want to die.

 _ **[** I haVe to stoP this… **]**_

I draw back, up, away. It weakens my grip, and he reaches the knife.

But he doesn't have a chance to use it, before I drive my head down as hard as I can. The impact is dizzying, sickening, and I _feel_ my nose crunch against the hard metal of my mask. But I hear the Tinker scream, and when I shove myself up and away again, there's a sickening _squelch_ , wet resistance. Blood splatters, covering a lense, effectively blinding me in one eye.

Sharp pain, across my arm-

-drives me further away. But the Tinker doesn't follow. He's too busy fumbling the knife, clutching the side of his neck where the hooked beak of the mask had caught him. Even with the heavy bleeding, with the obvious pain, he's _glaring_ at me.

I slump. Struggle to breathe. He pulls himself back against the shattered remains of a wall, slumping against the body, half-buried but still falling. Frozen in a moment of fear. Dying? Is that what dying feels like…?

Something _snaps_. The noise is almost deafening, in the near silence of the Void, and I refocus immediately. Stare at the pieces of the Charm that the Tinker is holding, almost unrecognizable beneath all the blood.

He laughs, breathless and hysterical, as the blood starts turning _black_ , spreading up to the wound, then out from it, darkening the veins across his neck and face.

 _ **[** The **thing** beHind him hissSess iN disDaiN, griPpinG hiM tight- **]**_

He starts to slip away, bits and pieces at a time. Flakes of skin, and blood, and muscle, and bone...he's trying to get away again. He's succeeding.

I wheeze, hiss, barely get the words out. " _No."_

 _ **[** My **Mark** burNs, the ScaLeS thAt cover mY eyEs cRaCKing, FalLing- **]**_

And the Void ripples, the blue haze and stillness wiped away. Stark, cold...the wind catches my coat, hissing across dark stone.

The Tinker stares, from his place on the ground. Wide-eyed. Shocked. He's surprised.

So is the _thing_ behind him.

" _End this_."

Sharp limps lash out, faster than I could hope to see; they bury themselves in the stone. The Tinker twitches, once, looking down at the chitinous spike in his chest. And then he just...stops. He falls limp. His breath hisses out. The dark stops spreading.

There's a whisper in the cold-dark behind me. Indistinct, but dangerous.

 _ **[HosT tErminAtioN.]**_

The writhing, impossible shape twisting behind the Tinker's corpse surges, recoils, but can't escape as more limbs reach around me.

 _ **[ReaLloCaTing.]**_

And I-

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

It's the rain that wakes me up. The dull ache spreading through my whole body keeps me from passing out again.

I take a deep breath, my side _pulling_ but not-

" _Hgk_." Fuck. I claw at my mask, fingers numb, stiff, but I _do_ manage to pull it off, to get the wet, clinging cloth away from my mouth and nose. _Breathe_. The air feels cold against my bare skin, the water just making it worse. But I don't try to move. Just close my eyes against the rain and...take a minute. Take a break.

"I suppose it's tradition, to _bask_ in the aftermath of victory."

Any _attempt_ at relaxation I could have made dies a swift and painful death. Instead of lying under the rain and trying not to jostle the numerous injuries I'd managed to collect in the last...however long it had been, I find myself sitting up. Standing. Turning to eye the Outsider, who doesn't even have the good graces to look at _me_.

Of _course_ I notice that I'm definitely on a rooftop, and not some ruined street. Of _course_ I realize that this isn't (can't be) the Void.

But I can almost feel his smirk, feel him _waiting_ for me to ask. So instead of doing that, I move to stand on the edge, beside him. Squint past the rain, toward...toward the Bay, I think. Try to figure out what he's looking at.

The silence doesn't last, of course.

"But then, tradition isn't for everyone, is it?"

Flashes of color, faint, _very_ distant. Capes. Blasters. They're still fighting Leviathan, out there. "Traditions are important."

"Traditions are like many things, in that they start well. Acts of devotion, or fellowship. But of course, in time, the reasons are lost. They become nothing but a distant memory." He's smiling. "And in time, not even that."

I don't look. I _don't_. Instead, I distract myself with the distant struggle. Wonder how many people are dying, out there? How many people have already died? A lot. Too many.

"...how many is 'too many'?"

"You'll find as many answers to that question as people to ask it."

More silence. There's a flicker of gold, the rumble of thunder.

"And like anything...it's _all_ about _context_. After all...the life of a loved one? A child, or a lover...a parent?" I stiffen, don't move as the Outsider turns to step around, behind me. "To even lose _one_ is unthinkable. It's the kind of thing that will drive anyone to... _extremes_."

I think of the shotgun. And of the blood I'll probably have to clean out of my mask.

"Of course, if a hundred strangers have to die, to protect those precious few…?" He settles again, standing on my other side. Leans forward far enough that I can't even pretend not to see his smile. "That's just the way of things, isn't it?"

The gold flickers again, then rises up above the buildings. Like a firefly, arcing up, then shooting down so quickly it seems more like teleportation.

"After all…"

Another flash, somehow _brighter_ , and a _streak_ of gold cuts through the rain, disappearing beneath the skyline in moments. The flare of light that follows is impossible to mistake.

"...people will do _anything_ for the sake of those they love."

More light. Moving, quickly...I track it over, and across, and then it's moving away. Toward the Bay.

The Outsider steps out of sight again. I hear footsteps, moving away. " _Once, there was a City by the sea. It was peaceful, and prosperous. Until, one day, a stranger came among them. Until brother turned against brother; until the tides ran red on the shore. Until the stranger left them, the fires warming his back."_

" _There's no City there now. Only ash, and a memory. And, in time…"_

"...not even that?"

The rain falls.


	40. Interlude: Ethan

**A/N:** Just a reminder that the [bracketed] sections are representative of the invisible text used in the original formatting. Also, I still wish there was a better option for that, on this site.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

" _Ethan. I need you to do me a favor."_

" _...the very thought fills me with dread. Should you even be out here right now?"_

" _No. We have fifteen minutes. Wheel me up to my lab."_

" _Well, you're the boss…"_

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

"Anything?"

The tech didn't answer right away, still focused on the little screen set into the body of the scanner. Assault definitely wasn't fidgeting, standing there in the middle of the street. The wide open street. With two trucks just _packed_ full of supplies that were, to the people still in Brockton Bay, worth _more_ than their weight in gold. People would murder each other for _scraps_ of what was sitting there.

And that wasn't hypothetical. That was a thing that _would_ happen.

So why they'd decided to send these things in _three days_ after Leviathan, before the roads could be cleared or people could be accounted for, was entirely beyond him.

Of course, he wasn't here to question things, or even to worry about security. Today-

"Alright, all clear." The tech let the scanner drop, stepped back and away from the rubble. "You're good to go."

-today, he was playing snow-plow.

Rubble plow?

"Okay then." He eyed up the mess that _used_ to be a building, before it'd been knocked down into the street. No signs of life under the mess meant he didn't need to be _overly_ concerned in getting it out of the way. He cracked his knuckles, popped his neck, bounced on his heels a couple of times. "What is it people say? 'Fire in the hole'?"

Everybody standing nearby took an extra couple steps back. And Assault managed to smile, despite it all.

"Alright then." Back to work.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

" _Alright, so what's this about?"_

" _A mistake. Or...several. One mistake that caused others to build up. Can't fix it all. Maybe just the one. The latest one, not the first one."_

" _Right. Are you feeling okay?"_

" _I was on a morphine drip."_

" _I'd hope so."_

" _Here's the file. Read fast. Twelve minutes."_

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

Alright, so maybe he hadn't needed to stay and help set up tents at the shelter. But when you could just _pop_ a flimsy pole into concrete? Well, it was kind of hard to watch three guys struggle trying to figure out how to secure things with weight or cables or whatever they'd been trying to do before he'd stepped in.

Anyway, even if he hadn't _needed_ to stay, that didn't mean it didn't serve his _nefarious purposes_.

"This is just going to make us an easy target."

 _Ohh_ yeah. Big white tents, lots of relief workers in HiVis vests, crates of supplies sitting on the street? "Preaching to the choir. _I_ think they should have taken the fact that they needed me to clear the roads enough to get here as a sign."

That got him a dark chuckle. "At least they brought _some_ kind of security of their own. I'll have to see if I can convince them to part with a spare weapon or two. There's bound to be _something_ packed away."

Huh. "Superhero? Right in front of you?"

"You're going to begrudge people who've lost _everything_ a little self-sufficiency?"

"Well, no. But I'd appreciate at least a little plausible deniability." Not that he'd had much of that to begin with. Guy had a shotgun in his lap. "You probably _shouldn't_ talk that way, anyway. Just as a precaution." He smiled, as he tapped the side of his head, right over the little transceiver pressed against his ear.

Seemed the message was received and understood. Made him feel better, if only for a moment. The idea of people taking things into their own hands... _wasn't_ as comforting as maybe it should have been. But really, if it came down to arming civilians and letting the gangs run roughshod?

Easy choice.

" _Welp_." He pushed away from the tent-pole he'd been leaning on, dusted his hands dramatically, and offered one of his best smiles. "I've been lounging around for long enough. I'll leave you folks to it, get on with my own business."

"Before you go-?"

He paused, already half turned-away.

"Can I ask you to do me a favor?"

Heh. "Would you believe that you're the second hard-ass in a wheelchair that's asked me that exact thing, today?"

Daniel Hebert looked up, his sour look turning to confusion. "...no kidding?"

Assault grinned.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

" _Okay. Question. Why me? Would have figured this to be the kind of thing you go to Hannah for."_

" _I trust Hannah. But I know her, too. When she's uncomfortable, she falls back on the rules. Neither of us is suited for this."_

" _...so you're not asking Assault_ _about this, are you?"_

" _Six minutes. Keep reading."_

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

"-which means they've _all_ be folded into the Merchants." Assault scowled at the tag in front of him, so fresh it was still dripping in places. "Go figure that the decentralized transients bounce back from this mess so quickly. For most of them, this is just 'same shit, different day'."

"I don't think I can put that in the report." Mitchel, the dispatcher on the other end of the line, sounded tired. Understandable, considering he probably hadn't gotten any more sleep than the rest of them, the last couple of days. "But I'm not really surprised. They managed to slip under the radar for this long because we had the Empire and ABB to deal with too."

And since the Empire had imploded and the ABB'd had its teeth ripped out, Skidmark was probably shooting for the top spot. "They won't last. The vultures are circling, and some of them are bigger and meaner than anything these guys can field."

"Doesn't matter. We need to be worried about the sort of damage they can do in the meantime."

Right. Assault sighed, and turned away from the redbrick. "God, what a mess. Got this feeling we're _all_ going to be pulling double shifts for awhile."

"Same shit, different day."

"Ain't that the truth." A jog down the alleyway built up a bit of momentum, and when he made a turn onto the street he was able to break into his usual, ground-eating stride. Latest measurements put him at almost thirty miles an hour; given the general conditions of the road and the fact that he was keeping an eye out for trouble he was doing maybe half that.

Still, pretty fast. He cleared the block in a couple seconds. "Just make sure the word gets out that the shelters on this side of town _aren't_ safe. God knows what the junkies'll do to get to the pharmaceuticals that are going to be making their way over."

"I'll put the report in. _And_ have a chat with a few old friends. Maybe we can convince someone up the chain that it'll be worth beefing up security."

" _Ha_! Good luck with _that_." Down another block, another sharp turn. "Nobody 'up the chain' is close enough to this crap to see-" Shouting. A gunshot. Asphalt cratered beneath his feet as he stopped to orient on the noise. "Bad guys."

"I heard." Mitchel was all business, now, clacking away at his console. "Marking your position. Backup?"

"Not necessary." Probably. _A_ gunshot meant _a_ gun. And there hadn't been more than a couple of voices. Down another alleyway, one that turned off ahead, probably a dead end, with no view of the street. Perfect little hideaway for violence-

A flash of light. More shouting. Assault picked up the pace, turned the corner to se...see…

 _Beautiful_. He stopped, stilled...relaxed. Whatever fight had been in him left.

Why would he fight?

 _ **[**_ They were all mesmerized. She was just angry. "You _sorry! Mother! Fuckers!" **]**_

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Or heard. He watched, enraptured, _enthralled_. Unable to look away, to blink. The light was so bright, and warm, as she swept dim shapes aside.

 ** _[_** She threw one into the nearest wall. The other went limp, as she lifted him off his feet. ** _]_**

And he fell to his knees, as the light roared even brighter. So bright. _So bright_. _He spread his arms wide to welcome it, bowed low, because that was right, but he couldn't look away, couldn't look away, didn't dare to look away._

 _ **[**_ "...oh shit." She tossed the second man aside. Drifted down to the ground. _ **]**_

 _She approached, and his pulse raced, his mind blanked, he reached out, bowed down, supplication, supplication-_

 _ **[**_ "Fuck, no, no, don't…" She bit her lip. Blood welled. And then she lifted up, and away. "Look, just…" _ **]**_

" _...I'm sorry."_

Assault came back to himself with Mitchel shouting in his ear, and those last two words ringing in his head. "I'm fine." The dispatcher cut himself off, which was good, because he really needed the quiet for a minute. "I'm fine, just…"

Shit, right. He got back to his feet, moved to the apparent victim. Gunshot wound to the head; his face was cratered in. Probably the fuckoff huge revolver the asshole by the wall seemed to have dropped. The one that _hadn't_ pulled the trigger seemed to be in slightly better shape, given that he could _move_ , but…

Well, a quick one-two to the kidneys while he was down put a stop to any escape plans.

"Get some people to my location. Got two for the prison hospital, one for the M.E."

"What happened out there, Assault? You were unresponsive for almost thirty seconds."

Yeah.

He looked up, like maybe he'd pick up some hint of gold. Despite knowing she was probably already long gone.

"Just a run-in with Glory. I'm fine. Just put the call in." He turned away from the crime scene, took a deep breath, and started walking. "I'm getting back to work."

Places to be, after all.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

" _So...this is royally fucked."_

" _I've been made aware."_

" _And you want me_ _to fix it."_

" _No. I just need someone to make sure...I need to know that it hasn't gotten worse. And I can't go myself."_

" _Don't think it'd end well if you could."_

" _Probably not."_

" _You're going to owe me for this."_

" _That's why it's a favor."_

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

This was the street. Unassuming, rundown residential area, just off the Docks. It had escaped the worst of the damage by dint of being away from the _fighting_ , but it'd still taken its hits. Flooding, water damage...and already, the telltale signs of looting.

When he reached the house he'd been looking for, though, something about the way the door was broken down...well, it didn't _say_ looting to him.

He moved in slow. Nice and quiet. Just in case. Apparently there'd been some reports of goons, guys in sweaters, guys with guns, guys who played 'generic hired hench' to the hilt, and who may or may not have answered to Coil at one point. If they'd paid the Hebert household a visit-

 _Creeaak_.

Ah. That was a squeaky step.

Well.

"Ahoy, the house!" Stealth was abandoned for a... _friendly_ approach. Wary, still, but he let his footsteps clunk a bit more, and he stopped a good arm's length from the door. "Annual inspection! We're on the lookout for looters and various malcontents!"

Silence. He let it linger, for a minute, just...listening. Actually, listening a little more intently than before, because there was this weird _buzzing_ from inside. What-

Crow appeared in the doorway with a _whuff_.

Assault _may_ have made a less than dignified noise.

"You're a couple days too late."

...well. Shit.

He swallowed, and stepped forward again, carefully ignoring the way he'd startled backwards to begin with. And while he was at it, he wiped away the smile. Because...well, that would explain the father's missing leg.

"I'm sorry." Nothing. She didn't move, didn't respond. That mask gave her a helluva poker face...and was that blood, there?

Oh, yes it was. Oy.

"Armsmaster sent me to check on you."

There. Cards on the table. He'd been thinking, on the way over, and disclosure...seemed like the right call. Shit was already fucked. They couldn't just dance around the issues trying to solve them, because that wasn't how you got things _done_.

Not that he expected it to make anyone fast friends. That'd be stupid. And he definitely wasn't stupid.

Which is why he expected the clenched fists, and the hostility radiating off the girl. Also, why he didn't react.

"He sent you _here_."

"A- _yup_."

More quiet, just a little longer...and then she reached up to just pull the mask off. She looked _almost_ like the school photo that had been stapled into Armsmaster's file. Overtired, defeated, simmering with _deeply_ repressed resentment and resignation.

...didn't speak well to her school life. But this _was_ worse. The circles under her eyes looked more like actual bruises, and when she turned away to hook the mask on her belt, he caught a faint but noticeable tremor in her hands.

"Before you...arrest me, or whatever it is you're here to do, I need to take care of something."

That she was immediately jumping to 'arrest' as a possibility was interesting, but not entirely relevant. "I could probably help?" And then, before he could think of more than two reasons why it was a _terrible idea_ , he reached up to pull the catch on his own helmet. "I'm a helpful guy. What is it you're doing?"

She stared, as the helmet came off. He smiled, and waited, ruffling his sweat-matted hair and projecting every ounce of friendliness he could scrounge up. And yeah, maybe it wasn't up to his usual standards...but she didn't teleport away, or try to hit him or anything.

"I've got to get rid of a body."

...okay, so the benefit of the doubt was...an important thing. The kind of thing he should be giving, following a girl inside to _dispose of a body_. "That's a-" No, not a joke.

And he could see why she'd want to get rid of it. Yikes.

"Most of them are sleeping right now." Her tone was flat, detached, and that would have been something he worried about if he wasn't _also_ looking at one of the more disgusting things he'd seen in awhile. "When they're all active, it's...much louder."

Fuck. "What _are_ they?"

"I've been... _told_...that they're called 'Bloodflies'." That didn't answer the question, but he didn't voice the complaint, because she was looking at him again. "Armsmaster told you about me?" Assault nodded, still distracted by the _goddamn corpse-nest._ "What about the bone Tinker?"

"Something from one of the Undersiders about a serial killer." It'd been practically a footnote, but he'd definitely noticed the double-underlined ' _connection_ ' written in the margins of the report.

And actually...those things Crow was wearing belted across her chest looked like they _could_ have been bone…

"He worked out a way to give his henchmen powers." She nodded at the body again. "Two guys came after my dad. They were armed...so he shot one. _He_ turned into a swarm of Bloodflies, and _those_ killed _him_."

Poor bastard. "And then they just sort of…" He couldn't say it, wound up pantomiming the whole...meat-nest thing instead.

Crow...didn't _seem_ particularly fazed by the whole thing. "They've been breeding. I can control them, but only for a little while at a time. So I need to get rid of them."

...oh, shit. "So how-?"

"I was thinking a fire."

Yeah. Fire could work. "Let's get started."

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

" _...so what's with the countdown, anyway? Are you going to crash off you super-secret Tinker drugs or something?"_

" _No. The nurses check my room everything thirty minutes."_

" _Oh."_

" _I'm going to be in a lot of trouble."_

" _But hey, you'll get more morphine. I think that leaves you better off than most of us."_

 _Armsmaster glared up at him with his remaining eye. Assault felt stupid._

 _They sat there for a little longer, anyway._

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

Helping a fifteen-year-old move a body hadn't been on his list of things to do, today. But it was happening anyway. Just...moving a body. A stiff, weirdly desiccated body. Full of very large bugs that, even under Crow's apparent control, buzzed and _moved_ inside it.

He kept his lunch down mainly by dint of not having had a proper lunch.

"We got some word about you showing up in a shelter." Shooting a guy with a gun. Teleporting a guy out, when he'd tackled her. Given the timing of it all, he had a sneaking suspicion, but…

"The Tinker." Uh-huh. "He sent people after my _dad_. He'd gotten away enough times already. It wasn't going to happen again."

Implying it _hadn't_ happened again. "...if I asked what happened to him, would you answer me?"

She didn't answer. They set the body down in the middle of the yard. Assault picked up the rubbing alcohol.

"Lady Photon came in, apparently. The Triumvirate hadn't even taken off yet." Considering what he'd heard of her story (second or third-hand accounts of it, anyway), the timing wasn't anything but intentional. "She asked about you. Whether you'd shown up anywhere."

Quiet. He passed the bottle over, and Crow twisted the cap off to upend it over the body. "...was she okay?"

What a question. "Not really." She looked up, suddenly sharp, and he sighed. "God, I hate being the bearer of bad news…" Shit, he shouldn't be dragging this out. "They lost Manpower. And Brandish. Shielder might still wake up."

He could actually _see_ her going pale. "Victoria? Amy?"

Right, because she was besties with the Dallon girl. _Fuck_. "Panacea's...alive. Holding together." But not doing well, obviously. Losing family like that sucked. "Glory... _Victoria_...seems to be doing okay for herself, too."

She relaxed, by degrees. Took the little book of matches he offered, once he'd actually dug them out of his costume.

"...why do you _have_ these?"

"You never know when you might need an open flame." He grinned, _almost_ a proper, shit-eating grin. "Do you know how to-?"

She folded the book over, struck a match, and dropped it on the body. The alcohol caught light...and then they both stepped back as the corpse went up like it'd been soaked in gasoline.

"I guess these things are flammable."

Crow didn't respond. Just sort of stared at the fire.

"Hey, Crow?" Nothing. "Crow." There it was. He smiled again, as she met his eyes. "You've got a place to go, right?"

"...yeah."

He nodded, and made his way over to the back door, to pick his helmet up. "I'm glad. We're going to need every hero we can get in the next few weeks." A couple of careful knocks to make sure no dirt or bugs had gotten in, and he went about putting it on again. "Get some rest, alright? Gonna have to be ready for anything."

No response. The fire crackled, and he didn't turn to look, just fiddled with his costume…

"Okay."

Cracking, but in a relieved sort of way. Hopeful, maybe. He nodded, once, and offered a backward wave. Forewent the back door to circle around the house, and build up some speed while he was at it.

Back on the road. Comms back on.

"You done with your lunch break, ya bum?"

"Dinner for me, Mitch. I'm coming back in."

Maybe he'd get some actual _sleep_ today.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

But first…

"Well?"

Colin looked like shit, laid out in the hospital bed. No legs, a bum arm, half his guts run by a goddam _box_ he'd been hiding under his 'borrowed' scrubs earlier. And while the painkillers were undoubtedly helping him _not_ be a screaming wreck, they didn't do a damn thing for his apparent functionality.

Still. "Met her. Talked a bit."

The glazed look in his eye faded, just a bit, as he made a visible effort to focus past the drugs. "And?"

Ethan started laughing.


	41. Chapter 34

The tags say 'Merchant'. The guards that just moved back inside for the night say 'stash house'.

"What do you think?"

' _A drug dealer's one-stop-shop. Everything you need and more.'_

Alright then.

I tuck the Heart away, turning to pull my mask on. To pick up the red-taped Charm sitting on the duct-work nearby, and thread it into place on my belt. I'm about as prepared as I'm going to get for this. So I might as well get to it.

It starts with the lights. Not hard to track down their generator; a paper-plastered window on one of the upper floors is missing a pane, exhaust directed up and out by-

-some sort of flexible tubing system. Surprisingly well put together, for a bunch of violent junkies. The room still reeks of gasoline, but that's more because of the open containers they've got sitting around. Has to be twenty gallons here. Just barely enough to run the thing for more than a day or two. Probably stolen.

A few trips later, the room contains considerably less gasoline, and this little venture has already paid off.

That doesn't mean I'm just going to leave it at that, of course. That'd be stupid.

I've had the opportunity, this past week, to pick up some useful new life skills. Learning new things. Like, for instance, _how_ a gas-powered generator works. How to set one up, and how to make sure it's working properly. None of those lessons really covered how to _sabotage_ one, but it's not hard to figure out. Pry off the casing, turn the thing off, then give the insides a few good _whacks_ with my baton.

Lights out, boys and girls.

I jam the casing back in place, and pick my way across the room to stand beside the doorway. Listen to the shouting from around the building. People who aren't happy about finding themselves in the dark without warning. Maybe people who just aren't happy in general. The Merchants seem to just be angry as a matter of course…

It doesn't take long for people to come investigate. Footsteps, in the hallway. Grumbling. Light sweeping back and forth, from beneath the door. I enhance my vision as the door is shoved open, grab the handle before it can hit my mask. Neither of the pair that just barged in notice, of course.

"Fuckin' piece of junk…"

"This thing's top of the line. It's _you_ fucking retards who never remember to gas it up."

I nudge the door closed again, watch the floor and listen carefully as it _clicks_ shut. With the way one of them seems to be kicking the generator, I don't think they noticed _that_ , either.

"Cut it out, asshole! You're gonna bust it!" There's some struggling, the light dancing as the flashlight changes hands. Footsteps circling around. "Look, man, it's not even broken or anything. Somebody just turned the damn thing off."

"And which motherfucker would'a done _that_ , huh?"

Well, it must just be my lucky night.

I clear my throat, right behind flashlight guy. They both jump, and I tilt my head enough for my mask to block the worst of the light's glare.

"That would be _me_."

I don't wait for it to sink in, of course. As much fun as that might be. Instead, I smash flashlight-guy across the face, sending him reeling back into the generator. The flashlight hits the ground, I kick it out of the way-

-and wrap an arm around guy-two's neck before he has time to do more than curse.

What's with the Merchants and swearing? I don't get it.

The guy on the floor is trying to get up, while the guy I'm choking is trying to _struggle_...this is the kind of thing I need to work on, still. A tighter grip, a _pull_ , I manage to walk the both of us close enough for me to kick a supporting arm, crumpling him back down. A stomp to the ribs takes a bit more of the fight out of him, and quiets what might have been a shout into more of a hiss.

Guy-two is _still_ struggling, though, and actually managed to get a good grip on my hood. Which is annoying. So I whip my baton down to bash his leg, drop him forward onto his knees, then bounce his head off a metal strut on the generator.

And I hold on tighter, for just a little longer. Because better safe than sorry.

Speaking of…

"Where are the drugs?"

Stomped-ribs wheezes angrily at me. Even manages to glare, when I drop his unconscious friend and move to kneel over him.

"It's an easy question. There are plenty of them here, and I'm sure that when it comes to your _product_ , you people are at least organized enough to store it in one place. So?"

Nothing.

I sigh. "Fine. Whatever. It's not like they'll be hard to find." He jolts, as I push his head against the floor, anger giving way to fear when I put a knee on his chest. "Hold still." Of _course_ he doesn't, but then, I don't really need him to, for this. A _shove_ turns his head to the side, exposing his throat. His pulse jumps, visibly.

Jeeze. You'd think I was about to murder him or something.

"Go to sleep." Half an order, as I jab him with the wire-wrapped bolt. Blood wells, but he stops struggling quickly enough as the narcotic payload takes effect.

He goes to sleep. I stand again, and tuck the used bolt into an empty pouch on my belt. Hypodermic needles of the sort _I've_ been using aren't exactly easy to get, after all.

Two down. Something like eight more to go, if my count was right.

Shouldn't be _that_ hard.

Here's the thing about the Merchants: they're kind of pathetic. Yeah, a guy with a weapon is a guy with a weapon, and even a strung-out asshole can be fucking dangerous if you're a normal person cornered in an alley. But, pound for pound, they don't measure up to _any_ of the other groups in the city.

And they know it.

So they group up. They bring their buddies in to hold the other guy down, they fight dirty, they stab you in the back and take your things because they want to, because they can, for no reason at all.

When faced with an outside threat, they pull together. If it weren't for the fact that they're murderous, drug-peddling assholes of the highest order, it'd actually be admirable.

Since they _are_ all of those things, I'm perfectly willing to use it against them.

All it takes is a few rats swarming a guy on the first floor. Dropping one of those unconscious bodies on a card-game in progress on the third. Letting one of them spot me, dragging his friend into a closet. Pretty soon, they're all crammed together, armed, watching the doors and shouting obscenities in the dark.

It gets worse, when I perch on the ceiling in the middle of their circle. When they can feel me watching them. I let them stew for a little while, let them start considering retreat as an option...when one tries to break for the exit, only to get cowed back into place by a guy with a sawed-off shotgun, I dig a lighter out of my pocket.

What was once a beer can drops to the floor in the middle of the group, the short fuse jammed in the top hissing in the sudden silence.

"What the fuck-?"

It goes off with a sound like a firecracker, and a flash that I can see even with my eyes closed and my head turned away. For the group below me? Well...none of them have super-powered night vision that they can turn off and on at will. That _has_ to suck.

Things break down about as I'd expected. There's shouting, and swearing, and a couple of blindly fired gunshots before I manage to get rid of their weapons. Nobody dies, but at the end of it all I'm _sure_ i've broken a few more bones than I intended to.

Mostly theirs, but my side is pulling uncomfortably when I breathe so who can tell, really?

"-four, five...and you're six." That's ten. Awesome. "Stick around for a bit, guys. Somebody should be along to collect you in a couple hours. If the roads aren't too bad."

Something about the muttered ' _Fuck you'_ as I slip out of the room just...makes me smile.

It doesn't take too long, after that, to track down their store room. Powders and pills of all kinds, wrapped up, piled on tables, set next to measuring equipment and what I have to assume is general 'drug paraphernalia'. I consider it all, for a bit, before pulling out the Heart again.

"A little help here?"

' _Pharmaceuticals are locked up. The good stuff's worth a lot_ _of money. Getting them for free somehow makes them even more valuable.'_

Okay then...there _is_ a strong box. A heavy padlock holds it shut. _That_ comes off with the aid of my baton and a bit of careful prying.

Bottles full of of painkillers. A few other useful meds. It only seems to be about a third of what was stolen, but this is only one hideout.

And it's better than nothing.

' _There's a lot of heroin here too, y'know. The packs with the brown packing tape.'_

I glance up at the nearest table, stand away from the box to take a closer look. Wrapped up in plastic and tape…'bricks'? Are they bricks? Kilos? I turn one over it my hands, just feel the heft of it.

' _Oh, and number eleven's done sleeping it off.'_

Number what?

"Who the fuck'r you!?"

I spin, throw the heroin at the voice. Tall guy, unwashed clothes, missing teeth. He throws his arms up to ward off the flying pack of drugs, which gives _me_ the time to grab for the crossbow strapped across my back. It...takes a bit, and he's about three feet away before I manage to get it loose, aim, and fire.

He goes down. I take a deep breath.

"I need to work out a better way to carry this thing." Because it takes even longer to holster it again. Which just...isn't optimal. "And _thank you_ , so much, for the heads up."

' _You seemed like you had things in hand.'_

Yeah, right. I pocket the Heart, poke around the room a bit more...until I find an empty duffel. Useful. The stolen meds go in first. Then a few packs of the heroin. Waste not…

I think that's everything? No, wait.

Guns, still where I'd dropped them. No more ammunition than whatever's in them, but I'd like to get back to the camp before morning...

...and I'm going to have to haul the gas, too.

Shit, yeah. Time to go.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

Six in the morning, the camp is already starting to stir. The guards around the perimeter trading off, what few relief workers are still hanging around hauling themselves out of their cots to face another day of organizing work.

They've had a better time of it than some of their colleagues, from what I can tell. Dockworkers aren't exactly strangers to manual labor in shit conditions.

"Gasoline." I tell the guy manning stockpile, as if it wasn't obvious enough from the pile of gas cans I'm topping off when he shows up. "Might want to check it; got it off some Merchants who won't be needing it anymore."

Which reminds me, I need to call that in at some point.

No, I'll do it now. Right now. Takes maybe ten seconds to dial, maybe thirty to offer up a report on the automated line. Location, number of bad guys, all of that. Very official, for a glorified answering machine…

"Where's the boss?"

"Medical, I think?"

He doesn't _sound_ very sure...but then, the way he's looking at me, I think he must be one of those people that just doesn't know how to act around me. There's a _few_ of those, in the camp. Which...I guess isn't surprising. It's just as weird on my end.

So I don't make a big deal about it, offer up a backwards wave as I shoulder the duffel again and start off toward the medical tent.

It's more like a canvas pavilion, really. Big, squared off, marked with a bright red cross. Mostly enclosed, though the entryway is tied open right now to let people in and out with relative ease. I step inside, and almost immediately-

"Crow! You're back!" Dad tries, he really does, but he can't hide the _relief_ in his voice. "We weren't expecting you to be gone _all_ night."

Which means he was probably up all night, too. Less than ideal, considering he's still healing from an _amputation_. The fact that he's out here at all is (according to the 'medical professional' in charge of this little operation) a 'massive and foolhardy risk to his recovery'. Lack of food, lack of _medicine_ , now sleep deprivation?

Well. I _did_ pick up something that should help.

I sling the duffel onto an empty cot, looking between my Dad and the good Dr. Haywood himself. Give one of the recovered bottles a rattle before tossing them to the doctor. "They'd already split up the take. But I got what I could." Evidenced by the rest of the bottles I scoop out onto the cot. "Almost all painkillers."

"Plenty of people who need something to take the edge off." The doctor snorts, sighs, frowns critically at the pile I've made. "That won't last, once we redistribute it to where it was meant to go." His attention shifts back to me, sharper than before. "If there's anything you can do…?"

My thoughts turn to the drugs still packed in the bag. "I think I can help you stretch things a little further." Though I'm not sure I could claim to be looking forward to it...I sigh, and turn back to my Dad. "Mr. Hebert-" Damn is it weird calling him that. "-I'm sorry I kept everyone waiting. Did anything happen, while I was gone?"

He visibly collects himself, reaching down to turn the wheelchair, face me more directly. "Nothing that we can't go over later, if you still have things to do."

Apparently I do. So I'll have to assume that no news is good news. "Later then." Bag closed up, shouldered again, I turn and head back out. "I'll do what I can about the meds!"

I don't wait for an answer, before teleporting to the nearest rooftop. From there, it's a short hop to the room I'd closed off on the top floor of a squat little office building we'd collectively claimed.

It's not much. A cot, a couple changes of clothes...a couple of desks I'd pulled together, to serve as a work table.

A few useful tools and half-finished 'projects' scattered all over it.

I drop the bag. Try to ignore the sudden and oppressive silence of being alone, inside, without air-conditioning or people or traffic…

The mirror is covered in a sheet, but all it takes is a sharp _tug_. The reflection beneath isn't _quite_ a reflection...and when I lay a hand on the glass, something sharp and articulated presses from the other side. It's like that for a moment, smooth glass and the faint thrum of _energy_...and then I grasp, and am grasped in turn, and the world-

-tips-

-and falls-

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

I walk through a...cavern? Or a forest? Curved pillars of something crystalline, a vaulted ceiling overhead, glimpses of emptiness beyond.

The pillars flicker, occasionally, light racing between the floor and ceiling, seemingly at random. And they whisper softly, just on the edge of my hearing, as I move through them.

' _Further in this time.'_

Which is annoying. "It wasn't very far _last_ time I tried this."

' _I think it's moving things on purpose.'_

And wasn't that just a chilling thought?

I walk. The whispers follow me, along with the echoes of my footsteps on the stone. "You keep talking about it like it's...conscious." I didn't want to say 'alive'. That much seemed like kind of a given. "Aware."

' _Not quite. Not in the way you're thinking. But limited agency is close enough in all the ways that matter.'_

The heart pulses, softly, and in that brief moment a ghostly image appears. Hovering beside one of the pillars, peering into the dark, writhing shape that seems to move at its center.

' _I'm surprised you're bothering to ask. You didn't want to know, before.'_

I didn't. I still don't. "I can't undo this, can I? I'll have to deal with it all sooner or later." I turn, edging around to a clearer path. Pause, and trace my fingertips across the nearest pillar...the whispers grow harsh, angry, but thEy tell me _about someThiNg LarGe_ -

-which isn't what I need. Further in.

"Can't stay ignorant forever."

' _Oh, that's rich.'_

I don't respond.

I deserved that.

The quiet drags on for a little while longer. I stew, and try to work out questions. The Heart... _Tattletale_...is just limited. She _responds_. To intent, to curiosity, to questions...but something has to be there. Otherwise she's just...quiet.

A ghost, trailing after me. Haunting her remains, maybe in a very _literal_ sense.

Another thing I've tried not to think about too much. Maybe I'll work up the courage for _that_ one day soon. For now, though…

"What are they?"

' _Creatures. Machines. The distinction gets kind of blurry on their scale.'_ Another low pulse, a flicker of a girl falling in step beside me. ' _They're powers, Taylor. The kind that Parahumans get.'_

I glance back, to catch sight of the _thing_ behind me. Or however much of it I can actually see, given how much of itself its...hiding? _Keeping_ , maybe. Either way, it's not hard to track from there, following the threads it holds. All those little stars that I'd dreamed were lighting up the inside of my head. Not exactly a dream, in the traditional sense.

"And every Cape…?"

' _Probably.'_

Fuck. That's hard to swallow. "This one drove the Tinker crazy."

' _His name was Trevor...and yeah. Kind of.'_

"Kind of?" More silence. I stop, frown, hold the Heart up in front of me. Like it's somehow more…'direct', talking to her like that, and not just me being an idiot. "What does that mean?"

A few more seconds pass...and then she sighs. ' _Trevor was a normal parahuman. Which means he broke. And something broken fell onto him from a great_ _height.'_ A pulse, Tattletale forming _around_ her heart to stare down at me before vanishing again. ' _The Outsider had just arrived. He noticed. He thought it was interesting. So he made his approach. He showed Trevor what had attached itself to him.'_

' _It...wasn't quite_ _ready to be seen.'_

My stomach churns. "He broke more."

' _And it fucked him up. More than most of us...just a little further. Bear right.'_ I flinch at the not-so-subtle reminder, start walking again. ' _This thing...it's like a library. Or an archive? It was supposed to feed him...inspiration. Ideas. Give him the tools to bring those things out of his head. Only instead of being a voice in the back of his head-'_

"It was a _literal_ voice." The whispers he'd ranted about in his notebook. Hell, the drawings on the wall in the booby-trapped workshop...looking into one of the nearest pillars, I could see tHe resembLance. "And it drove him crazy."

' _More_ _crazy. He was already a little cracked. Didn't take much.'_

She sounds so... _dismissive_. It takes me a second to bite down my first, knee-jerk response. Because Tattletale _knows_ people died because of him. She was one of them.

' _It was a mess. Bad luck and bad timing on everyone's part. But hey, something_ _good came out of it.'_

"Oh really?"

' _The Outsider was_ _more careful when he came to you.'_

...oh.

' _This is it, by the way_.'

I swallow, and look up at the crystal pillar in front of me. Swallow my discomfort. I'm here for a reason, after all.

Eyes closed, hands out...my Mark itches, as I oPen myseLf to the VoiCe.

 _It tEaChes Me. evVen thOugh I'lL forGet, SooN eNougH…_

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

I blink. Shake off the last of the haze, as the whispering finally quiets.

Back in 'my' room. What I guess must amount to my 'workshop'...now set up more like a chemistry lab. I don't really remember reassembling the little distilling setup, or pulling together the rest of these materials, but I guess it's a good thing I kept some of this stuff on hand. Something...I did _something_ with the heroin, there, and I remember it was important if I wanted it to work with the few drops of sedative I had left over from the salvaged bolts Shadow Stalker had been issued.

The details are already gone, of course. Seems to be the way of things. I'm not _really_ a Tinker, I don't think.

"I just have his powers."

This...will do. In low doses. Something about the way I fixed it should make the negative effects less drastic, but I don't think there's such a thing as a non-habit-forming opiate.

Still. Something I'm willing to offer up. Something people will be able to use, and that will ease some of the strain on our supplies…this is a good thing. I did something good.

"They _were_ his powers. Now they're mine."

 _I'll_ use them better.

Tattletale doesn't respond. Not surprising, considering the Heart is still in my coat, tossed over a chair.

Whatever.

I stopper the flask with the finished product, sling my coat back on, double-check to make sure I'm still wearing my mask-

-then step into the medical tent again. "Hey, Dr. Haywood? I've got…"

Amy?

"Crow." She turns, stepping away from the doctor with an obviously forced smile. "I've been looking for you."

That doesn't really bode well for the rest of my day.

"Can we talk?"

I set the painkillers aside, and nod, because what else am I going to do?

"There's a nice rooftop nearby." She flinches, but when I offer my hand she doesn't hesitate to take it. And it's an easy thing-

-to give us a little privacy. Because...well. Her smile drops, and she turns away. Privacy was probably the right call. I give her a minute, take the time to pull off my mask, try and rub some of the dry itch from my eyes.

"Aunt Sarah's been looking for you." She finally turns back to me, arms crossed...defensive. Anxious. Like most people these days, she looks about as tired as I feel. "Because you didn't come back, after Leviathan."

" _What_?"

"She said that she told you to find her, and you never showed up." Suddenly, she's glaring. "If one of the paramedics at the camp I've been working hadn't mentioned you, she'd probably still be running herself into the ground trying to track you down."

That...doesn't make sense. "If this is about the Tinker…"

"It's _not_!" I step back, because suddenly she's _right_ in front of me. "It's not about some psychopath, or your fucked up powers, or whatever the hell else you've managed to get wrapped up in!" When I try to move again, she grabs a fistful of my coat and keeps me in place. "She lost her _husband_ , her _sister_ , and her _son_ in the same day. Crystal's falling apart, Mark hasn't left our living-room in days, and Victoria-"

Her face twists, and she shoves me back, turning to stalk away from me. "She can't do _anything_ about any of it. So she's latching onto something she thinks she can actually _fix_."

 _Fuck_. I'd known that; most of it, anyway. But I'd just assumed that would mean...the opposite, maybe. _Why_ would someone in that situation still be trying to…

Wait. "Assault said…" What is it he'd said? "I thought Victoria made it?" She had, hadn't she? He told me she was alright…

She scoffs, pressing a hand to her head. " _That's_ what you get from all that…?"

"I'll meet with your aunt _today_ , if it means that much." And I will, absolutely. But first, "What happened to _my friend_?"

Amy scowls at me again. Shakes her head, before waving off toward the bay.

"The same thing that happened to the rest of us."


	42. Chapter 35

Some more things I've learned, today; supply crates are worth transporting even when they're empty, Panacea smokes but doesn't drive stick, and I don't necessarily have to land on a still surface if I want to stay in place. I'm not sure how I feel about that last point, since it means I'm relegated to the top of the pickup's cab for our trip across town.

It's a slog, making our way from one side of the docks to the other. A lot of the streets this close to the Bay are either covered in debris from the flooding, damaged by the fighting...or maybe by Leviathan's passage. I haven't ranged very far from 'home' this past week, but trying to navigate at street level...it's like a maze. I guess it's not as bad as it could be, since Amy and the guy riding shotgun for her already made the trip once today; there's a minimum of backtracking and no need to go searching for a street that leads the right direction.

That still leaves us practically crawling along. Leaves plenty of time for an ambush. So I keep a close eye on our surroundings. And, judging by the sweeping cone of light below me, so does Amy's friend.

Of course, at the end of it all, we reach our destination without incident. Because paranoia doesn't _always_ pay off.

I drop from the cab, stretch out some of the stiffness in my legs from crouching there for so long. Take a long look at the relief camp, so similar to the one we just left. A bunch of tents, portable fencing, chemical toilets. Lots of workers milling around...most of them haven't gone out yet, today. You can tell, because they're not sweating and tired, not covered in dust. No fresh wounds…

"Hey." Amy, sidling up behind me. "Are you done spacing out?"

Was that what I was doing? "I haven't slept." Following up on the drug thing had kind of hijacked my night. Plus, now that I think about it, "I also cooked some heroin into painkiller to make up for a stolen shipment." Which...I _was_ working in an enclosed space. "Can you get a contact high from liquid heroin?" Isn't it usually injected? I don't know how that translates into anything else-

She's in front of me, glaring, and I bite my tongue before I can follow up on that question with any more. "Tell me that's some sort of joke." When I _don't_ tell her that, she closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath, before letting it out through her nose in an obvious attempt to stay cool. "Hand."

"What?"

She pins me with another glare, holds out her own hand, and I kick myself for being obtuse. A glove comes off, and I offer my hand over…

"You're not high." Her eyes narrow, her focus shifting into the middle distance somewhere. "But you've got a cracked rib, and three metacarpals that've healed improperly." Even as she says it, I can feel prickling in the hand she isn't holding, pins-and-needles in my side. "Not to mention you've skipped at least two meals today and you're suffering early symptoms of sleep deprivation."

Yeah...none of that really surprises me, honestly. "I think I'm doing pretty well, all things considered."

Her grip tightens, for a moment, and she opens her mouth to say something. Apparently decides against it, a moment later. Focuses past me for another few moments instead.

"Your power deadens your sense of pain, right?" I nod, and she sighs. "Then pay more attention to yourself. Get your injuries examined, even if they seem minor. I'm not going to be following you around to give you a touch up whenever you let something go."

It's a good point. Something I hadn't really considered. She said bones had healed _wrong_ , so obviously I couldn't just...depend on myself to heal from everything. "Okay."

"Good." She drops my hand, turns away. "Now come on. It looks like most of the volunteers are still here, so Aunt Sarah should still be around."

Right. Okay. "Lead the way." No response, but I follow anyway, pulling my glove back on as we go. It's...not a long trip. It seems like seconds later we draw up to a pavilion tent that seems to be providing shade for organizers, a handful of laptops...and Lady Photon.

She looks up when Amy steps 'inside'. Stills when she spots me, a moment later.

"Crow." She's edges around a table covered in binders and maps, in front of me before I can actually find a response. "You've been safe?"

Her eyes are bloodshot, skin pale. I can see her hands trembling, before Amy takes one. They share a pointed look, and when the older Cape looks back to me, it's obvious that she'd just gotten her own 'touch up'. _That's_ what finally shakes me out of my stupor. At least, enough to work out an answer. "Mostly."

Lady Photon sighs, rubs at her face. I look away, watch Amy as she makes a quick exit. "'Mostly'..." Quiet. The awkward kind. "You were supposed to meet me."

"I know."

"I told you to find me _immediately_ after the battle." It's more than scolding; she sounds...frustrated. Frayed. "With the Truce, and with us there, we could have _talked_ to the Protectorate about the Bone Tinker."

...oh. "I'm sorry." And I am. I just hadn't _thought_. "I was distracted." Her expression takes a turn for the incredulous, and I swallow. "He sent his men after my dad. He's alive, but…" It hadn't been a sure thing, when I left him in that shelter. He'd lost a _lot_ of blood. "...we don't have to talk to the Protectorate anymore."

Her expression twists, and she puts her hands on my shoulders. Squeezes. I can't tell if she's trying to be supportive, or making sure I can't get away if she doesn't like what I say next. "Crow, they _need_ to be informed. We _cannot_ have him wandering around in all of this…"

"I know that." I take a deep breath. Shake my head. "I took care of it."

Silence.

"Crow…" I cringe, look away as she pulls me aside. As her voice drops. " _Taylor_ , what-?"

"He went after my _dad_." I'm staring at our feet. Scuffed boots. Bright and colorful, dark leather…"I couldn't let him get away again."

" _Taylor_ …"

She doesn't say anything else. When her silence drags on, I shrug her hand off, and take a careful step back. "Assault visited me...he told me what happened." I still don't look up. Not enough to see her expression. "And...I'm sorry. I thought…" I don't know. Just that it had been easier to help my Dad and go after the Merchants than to _think_ about tracking them down.

Another few moments pass, before she heaves a sigh. "Thank you." Only a _faint_ tremor in her voice. "It's...hard. None of us is in a position to…"

"...grieve."

I finally look up, in time to see her nod. Eyes closed, lips pursed...I look away again when the first tear falls.

"Exactly." She swipes at her face, takes the time to compose herself. "I...we all knew the risks. Being a Cape family, being a team...fighting an Endbringer." My mind goes back to the handful of Capes I'd seen torn apart by Leviathan. All of them dead in the space of a heartbeat. Barely an afterthought, in the grand scheme of things. "But there's a difference, when it actually-"

When it actually happens. When you lose your family. When…

When you...when you lose a parent.

When you lose your mom.

I... _fuck_.

"Where's Victoria?"

Lady Photon looks at me, teary-eyed and tired and angry and sickeningly sympathetic, and I just...I think I'm going to throw up.

Instead, once I have an answer, I turn and leave. Ignore the way she calls after me.

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

Victoria's place looks a little more lived in than mine does, these days. But that's not saying much. The front door being intact is definitely a step up. And-

-inside? It's quiet. Dark. No power, a little surprising...but it looks like somebody had the presence of mind to empty the fridge at some point. Lady Photon _did_ say they'd been by to move Flashbang out last night. Maybe they did the same thing we did; taking whatever was important, moving to a central location. Somewhere they can keep each other close...

Upstairs. Victoria's door is open. Just a crack. Enough that the light is obvious. Padding down the hallway, moving closer step by step. It's not quite deja vu. It's too clear for that, as I stop in front of the door. As I edge it open.

There's the firelight, rippling under her skin. Bright enough to light the room...bright enough that it would be dazzling, if it weren't for the sharp things on the edgE of my vision, shAding my eyes.

There's the picture. A photograph, the frame creaks in her hands. That just barely audible over her shaky breathing. It's different, seeing the scene in motion. Seeing this with context. Knowing…

Knowing it's real.

I knock, quietly. Pull my mask off, as I nudge the door open. Her reaction is...more violent than I would have expected. She startles, the frame dropping. Glass shatters. Her eyes go wide, and she sweeps back and away, pressing herself into the furthest corner of the room. "Shit, _shit!_ "

 _God_. "Victoria-"

"Stay back!" I freeze, before I can do more than step into the room. "Fuck, _fuck_ , Taylor, don't...I don't…" She stares. "I...you're not…?"

"I'm not what?"

Her mouth works soundlessly, for a moment, but then she edges out of the corner. "Taylor?" I keep still, as she drifts closer, by degrees. As she reaches out, just short of actually touching me. "Holy shit, you're not...bowing."

 _What_? "No?" Why would I-

 _Ghk_. I wheeze, as she squeezes the breath out of me. It's not an exaggeration to say that my ribs creak uncomfortably from the pressure. For a second, all I can think is that Amy's going to be so mad at me for breaking those again. But...then Victoria starts shaking, her grip weakening until she's clinging more than crushing. And I remember why I'm here.

"I'm sorry." I'm already having trouble, blinking away my own tears. "I'm sorry…"

She collapses, and I follow her.

The crying puts questions firmly on hold.

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

The memorial isn't crowded, but there are still more people around than I'm comfortable with. Walking around in broad daylight, all of them _aware_ of me, it makes my skin crawl. But that doesn't matter right now.

"Just for a little while. Please?"

These two don't get angry, or annoyed, or...whatever. They walk off, arms linked together in solidarity. I watch them go. Watch the others I'd talked to making their way out...a couple of them stopping for whispered conversations, pulling friends and family (or maybe even strangers) along.

I get back to it.

Slowly, Captain's Hill clears off. And once the place is empty...I look up. Squint against daylight until I spot Victoria, a bright smear against the sky. She's watching, of course; has been since we got here, I'm sure. So it's easy enough to signal her. Give the all clear.

She's still hesitant, dropping down. It's... _wrong_.

We don't really _talk_ , as we make our way to the monument. We haven't really _talked_ since she'd pulled herself together enough to ask me for help.

I read the names over her shoulder, as she traces her fingers down the line. As she pauses on _Manpower / Neil Pelham_. As she circles around to another side. As she stops, finally, on _Brandish / Carol Dallon_.

"...I fucking hate these things." That isn't what I was expecting, and it takes me a second to actually grasp her meaning. A little longer to decide maybe she's not actually looking for a response. When the silence lingers just a moment too long she curls her hand into a fist, tapping her knuckles against the black stone. "These…'memorials'. What the fuck are they even memorializing, here? Their _names_? 'Look, here's a list of two dozen people oh and by the way they're all _dead_ '."

That's kind of a sad way to look at it. But now I can see it, too. Just a list. A fancy, _expensive_ list. Polished to a shine, while the city keeps on crumbling down...shit. That's maudlin. Still. "There's no context." That's the real problem. "No point in remembering who died fighting an Endbringer if the only thing you're 'remembering' is a name."

"Context...yeah." Victoria nods, slowly. Lets her head drop forward, to rest against the monument. "There's Carol Dallon. 'Brandish'. Some Cape that died. Who's gonna see this and think…'oh I remember her, she was a great lawyer'. Or...or 'right, Brandish, she helped put Marquis in the Birdcage'." She trails off, pushing against the monument. Shaking. "Maybe she was married. Maybe she was a mom. Maybe she couldn't bake for shit so she'd...she'd make Christmas cookies out of...out of a _fucking_ box…"

She doesn't resist when I pull her away, or when I walk her to the nearest bench to sit us both down. "Were they good box-cookies?"

It's hoarse, and tearful, but it's still a laugh. "The best." She sniffs, wiping her face on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. " _Fuck_. Just when I think I'm done with the waterworks…"

"I know the feeling."

She nods, slowly. Nudges me with an elbow, before leaning into me, resting her head on my shoulder. "It doesn't get better, does it?" Quiet, as she picks at her nails, at the threadbare cuffs of her sleeves. "That's the advice you always hear, right? 'It gets better'? But it won't, will it?"

I think back, to my own crying jag. To the days, the weeks, the months after. I think of the smell of perfume and textbooks, and the sound of a flute being played in the next room, and I have to swallow down a few tears of my own.

"Not really."

"Okay." She nods again. Scrubs at her face one more time, before rocking forward and pulling me off the bench. "Okay...so fuck sitting here and feeling sorry for ourselves. Let's clear out and let some other visitors do that." And then she's lifting into the air, shoving her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt and offering me a grin that's almost _literally_ blinding. "Race you to the Boat Graveyard."

That sounds like a plan I can get behind.


	43. Chapter 36

"Okay, it's not _that_ funny."

Victoria doesn't seem to agree, too busy laughing herself to tears on the other side of the railing.

I sigh and turn back to the horizon without another comment. Partially because there's not much point, but also...also because she's laughing. That's worth a little embarrassment. Although…"It's not like I would have been able to _tell_."

" _Oh my gaww-haaawwwdahahahaha!"_

"Nobody ever mentioned it to me."

She's hiccuping now, face buried in her arms. " _It's on my wiki page_."

"Am I supposed to believe _everything_ on the internet?" No answer, this time. I smile, watch the waves lapping at the rusted hull below. Try to rub some of the dryness from my eyes. God, I've been up for too long today.

Victoria calms down, eventually. Drifts back up from the deck to lean out over the railing beside me. The quiet noise of the bay fills up what might have otherwise been an awkward sort of silence. Makes it into something...bearable, if not comfortable.

Comfortable hasn't come easily, lately. For good reason.

"I don't think I've ever really been out here." It's only just more than a whisper; hoarse, a little strained. But when I glance down and squint past the light, Victoria's smiling, eyes on the waves as they march to shore. "It makes sense, right? The only reason to be out this far is...you're either a Cape, or you're some kind of criminal, right? Only the Capes that come out here, they're trying to keep a low profile. Because everyone knows nobody comes here."

It's a circular sort of logic, but I guess it makes sense. "So you never stopped over to...I don't know. Punch a boat apart or something?"

She scoffs, shakes her head. Folds her arms over the rail to let her chin rest on them. "When I got my powers, my parents-" her voice catches, just for a moment, "...my parents took me to the Protectorate base. For testing. I punched tinkertech scales apart, instead."

Huh. "I didn't know that was even a thing."

"It's not, really. Only for cases where it's not practical to just, like...practice things. But my-" another pause, and she grits her teeth. Screws her eyes shut. Takes a long moment to _visibly_ compose herself. "My _mom_...wanted the details. Or something. I...I never really asked."

Maybe it's time for a change of subject. "I haven't actually come out here before, either." It hadn't ever really occurred to me. As far as I can remember, I've always sort of hated the place. Or the idea of it, anyway. It's always been a distant thing, another point on the long list of 'reasons why this city sucks'.

And that was _before_ Leviathan. Now...this is one of the furthest ships from the shoreline. But I can still just look back and see the twisted wreckage that was washed ashore. A wide stretch of shoreline and city street rendered almost impassable, all of it well within range of my teleportation. God knows how relief efforts are going to work around _that_.

"It's nice. If you don't think too hard about it."

She sighs. " _Those_ sound like words to live by."

I close my eyes, and let the wind keep me awake.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

We're trailing along the skyline, staying close to the shore, when Victoria spots the first group.

"Are those guys in _hazmat_ suits?"

I glance up, follow her gaze out to the beach below. There _is_ a group of people down there. Spread out in a loose search pattern, one or two stopping every few feet to poke at the sand. And even at a glance, it's easy enough to tell that she's right; I'm not sure if they're literally hazmat suits, but from what I can see they're close enough that it doesn't matter.

But what are they doing on the beach? "I don't remember hearing anything about dangerous chemicals from the workers at the relief camp."

"You'd know better than I would." Victoria drops down to stand beside me, squinting down at the group. "Think we should check it out? If news hasn't spread yet…"

If there's something we should be worrying about, I'd _rather_ know. But then...if there's something down there dangerous enough to warrant protective gear, I'm not sure either of us _should_ try to investigate.

"Not right now." I consider, for a second, reach for Victoria's hand-

-to bring us to the nearest street-corner, below. I get the street names, repeat them under my breath a couple of times-

-and take us back to the rooftops. "I'll talk with the organizers back at camp. If something's going on, they'll either know about it, or they'll know who we need to ask."

"Lookit _you_ , all responsible." Victoria snickers, frees her hand so she can poke the side of my mask. "What happened to the Crow that stumbles in and unravels mysteries on the go?"

"The Bonecarver."

I said it without really thinking. The meaning settles in a moment later. Victoria's smile fades.

Damn.

Mood officially killed, I jerk my chin toward the next building and start walking again. After a moment, Victoria follows.

"You know, you haven't actually told me how all that went down."

Of course I didn't. I haven't actually told _anyone_ what happened. I haven't really needed to, and nobody's bothered to ask for details.

Victoria's asking. Am I really going to go back to keeping secrets from her? _Now_?

I cross over to the next building. Wait for her to catch up. "...so I told you about the guys he sent after my Dad." She nods, and I sigh. "I tracked him down. Found him in an Endbringer shelter. When I couldn't hit him inside, I brought him _outside_ …"

I recount the running battle we'd fought, even though most of it is a blur. I tell her about my _brief_ run-in with Leviathan, and she weighs in with some of her own time in the fight. The _actual_ fight. It sidetracks us for a few minutes, and then brings us to a stop for a few more while she gathers herself again. But then I tell her about Victor. About the portal into the Void.

And then I tell her that, strictly speaking, _I_ wasn't the one that killed him.

"...so you're telling me that there's a giant, inter-dimensional eldritch abomination hanging around...and _that's_ what gives you your powers."

"I'm saying that, from what I can tell, that's where _every_ Parahuman is getting their powers."

Victoria stops, and gives me a _look_. I stop too, and if I'm not willing to look directly at her...well, it's just because my eyes hurt.

"Taylor. You're my friend. So understand I only mean it in the most caring way when I tell you _that's bugfuck crazy_." Which is about the response I should have expected. "How would you even...okay, so _maybe_ I can buy that something about this 'Outsider' guy and the powers _he apparently gave you both_ might have given you some kind of...impression of that. But what makes you think that that's even a thing for the rest of us?"

Well, I've come this far. "Remember Tattletale?"

She crosses her arms, chewing her lip. "Aunt Sarah told me you found her body in the last workshop."

"Right." So I won't have to clarify _that_ then. "Don't...freak out. Please."

" _Christ_...okay?"

Probably the best I'm going to get. I take a deep breath, pull my coat open to reach into one of the inner pockets and pull out-

"Holy shit."

' _Oh, is that Glory Girl? Or is it just Glory, now? Hello Glory!'_

"Holy _shit_."

' _Taylor, tell Glory I said hello.'_

What.

" _Holy shit Taylor_."

' _Seems like you're_ _both_ _broken.'_

Maybe I should have kept this _one_ secret.

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

"Don't think I'm letting this go."

I sigh, reaching up under my mask to rub at my face. There's an uncomfortable _pressure_ building up between my eyes, and it's actually starting to throw me off. _God_ , it's been a long day.

"This may have me curious, but you are _way_ too comfortable carrying around human remains for my liking."

Am I supposed to apologize for that? It seems like it'd ring hollow; I'm such a damn hypocrite about these things. 'They're useful' still doesn't cut it, but it's as much an explanation as I have.

Speaking of useful things I carry around, maybe I should look into finding some binoculars?

"And I mean, at least the bone things you could _pretend_ they're not from a person, but that's a _fucking human heart_ -"

"I _get_ it." I finally cut her off, glancing up for a moment before turning my attention back to the beach below. "Now, do you have any ideas on just what the hell they're keeping under wraps down there?"

'Down there', in this case, is a stretch of beach not five minutes from the Boardwalk. From the street to the waterline is taped off at least a hundred yards in either direction. And at the center of it all? The biggest tent I've seen outside a circus. It's not even really a 'tent'; not entirely, anyway. There are too many solid pieces holding the loose parts together. But I'm not sure what else to call it. It's big, it's white, and parts of it are obviously plastic stretched over some sort of framework.

It's also pretty worrying. Because there are more of those guys in hazmat suits moving in and out of it. And getting sprayed down in the process. Which...there's _nothing_ about that that's good, right? That's a _bad sign_.

Unfortunately, Victoria seems as clueless as I am. If the way she grumbles and shakes her head is any indication.

"Why don't you ask your newest fucking disturbing tool?"

...why _haven't_ I asked yet?

"Don't call her disturbing." I mutter as I retrieve the Heart. And I ignore Victoria's incredulous ' _Her?'_ in order to focus on the tent below. The questions I want answers to.

' _They're nervous.'_ Tattletale's voice whispers, as I track the workers making their way out. ' _But not afraid. Covering their bases? No, look, that one there. The smoker, you see him?'_ I do. Standing away from his group, gas-mask pushed up on top of his head. ' _The extra measures aren't because they think they need them. It was requested. Someone doesn't want them to take any chances.'_

"Okay...so it's not as bad as it looks?"

' _I didn't say that. All I can tell from this is that they don't_ _think_ _it's necessary.'_ There's a moment of quiet, and a brief _flash_ in time with the Heart's pulse. The image of Tattletale sitting in front of me and staring pensively at the tent below lingers just long enough for her to blink. ' _Something about this…I can only give you so much.'_ Another pulse, and somehow it feels _resigned_. ' _I put together pieces. And while I have more of those than I used to, I don't have everything.'_

"So if I find more information?"

' _The more you uncover, the clearer the picture.'_

"Not much of an oracle if you can only tell me things I've already figured out."

' _Give me a_ _little_ _credit. All I need is a thread to follow. Finding the right one? That falls to you.'_

I nearly jump out of my skin when Victoria drops down beside me, an arm around my shoulder. "So I take it the Tattle-ghost isn't being very helpful?"

That's one way of putting it, I guess. "Apparently, the 'quarantine' was by request." I tuck the Heart away again, careful not to get it too close to Victoria in the process. Something tells me she wouldn't appreciate it. "People are nervous, but whatever's going on, there are at least a few of them that think they're overdoing things."

"So no deep-sea plagues or unexploded tinkertech bombs that got washed ashore, probably."

"...probably not either of those things, no." Those were the first things that came to mind? "And if that _is_ true," which I'm inclined to believe it is, "then I doubt it's time sensitive. We can talk to the organizers like we planned to, but...I mean, it looks like it's being handled."

Victoria considers, for a second, then nods. Drags me up to my feet and away from the building's edge. "Come on then. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

I...could definitely go for food, now that she mentions it. Maybe a nap. I _really_ hope I can justify a nap.

"I've got a top floor room back at the camp. Should be far enough away from other people to avoid any-" incidental Masterings? "...accidents."

Her shoulders slump, just a bit, and I feel like kicking myself. But she just nudges me with an elbow and steps away. "Lead on, then."

"Gladly."

* * *

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

* * *

We're late for the hot lunch the workers serve, but it's not hard to find someone willing to dole out a couple more servings for a pair of hungry Capes. I hang around just long enough to make sure there's nothing else going on that needs attention before taking the plates and teleporting up to 'my' room.

It seems even messier in here than usual, which can be entirely attributed to Victoria casting a much brighter light on the place than the worklight or open windows ever manage. Thinking on it, I may need to invest in some sunglasses, at some point…

"Oh shit, food." She's in front of me before I can react; it wasn't even that fast. I'm just...sluggish. "There was a guy that left a couple meals out for me to grab a couple days ago, but I swear I've been eating out of cans lately."

That...doesn't sound right. "What about-" Shit, phrasing. Parent? Family? "-Lady Photon? I'm sure she could have helped." Somehow. She certainly seemed to have been trying hard enough.

Victoria doesn't say anything, for a minute, drifting over to sit on the cot I've been using; probably the closest thing to a chair I've got in this space. "I've been keeping my distance. For obvious reasons." She shrugs, flips her plastic spork between her fingers before digging it into what I think is supposed to be mashed potatoes. "The only reason I was in my room earlier is because I saw them moving dad out."

Shit. I settle beside her, drop my mask at the foot of the cot and balance my plate in my lap so I can pull off my gloves. "Sorry."

It sounds so stupid when I just _say_ it like that. But Victoria smiles anyway, and it doesn't go away as she attacks her food. I follow her lead, because I'm actually pretty damn hungry myself. And when we've both scraped our plates as clean as they're going to get…

"Here." I toss her my cell-phone, as I shrug out of my coat. "I still get a signal, more often than not. Might need to head over to a window or something, though."

She gives me a weird look, chuckles when I shoo her up and away from my cot. "Who am I calling?"

"Your sister, probably."

I smirk.

She stares at me like she's not sure whether to hug me or put me through a wall.

"I _can't believe_ I didn't think of this."

"Mmhm." That said, I collapse. It feels _great_. "Lemme know how it goes."

She says something in response, but I'm already too far gone to pull any meaning from it.

The last thing I'm aware of before I crash completely is a hand brushing my hair out of my face.


	44. Chapter 37

I wake up feeling more exhausted than when I'd gone to sleep; if I had my way, I'd probably have just turned over and gone right back. But between the light in my eyes and the...phone? Being poked in my face?

"No rest for the wicked, Taylor." Victoria...right. Glowing. And phone? I open my eyes, trying to focus past the usual 'waking up' bleariness. Can't make out anything more than a bright screen. Thankfully, Victoria is still talking. "Your dad texted. Trouble down below. I'd go see what's going on, but there are a _lot_ of people down there. If I startle someone before they start with the worship…?

People could be hurt...trouble?

There's trouble.

The haze is washed away, everything sharpening in a rush of what's got to be adrenaline. I realize that Victoria's easy tone is covering strained tension. I realize that _my Dad contacted me because there's 'trouble'._

I'm on my feet, mostly avoiding any stumbling or swaying. Mask is...on the floor, there, I pick it up and pull it on, yanking up my hood over it...that's set. Most of my costume and gear are still in place; god, I need to wash this stuff at some point. And shower.

Later. Trouble.

"I'll put you on the rooftop." I tell her, as I grab my crossbow and check the ammunition feed. "Signal you if I need you...your aura disables people now, right?"

She nods, as she shrugs back into her sweatshirt, pulling up her own hood. It reduces the glow she's giving off by a not-insignificant amount. "I don't know what sort of range it has. Just that walls block it pretty well."

Okay then. "Not many of those down there." And if anyone tries to find cover, _I'll_ just have to find _them_. "Ready?"

"Let's go."

I take us up-

-and linger on the edge of the roof just long enough to take in the setting sun, the sparse crowd below. Long enough to spot the canvas covered truck idling, and the group of men arrayed in front of it. And then-

-I'm on the street. Dockworkers and Volunteers at my back. Black-armored Cape and heavily muscled mooks in front.

"...hey."

The Cape, a woman, flinches back. Black armor, red suns...that's familiar. Sunspot? Sun _something_. One of the Travelers. So definitely a villain, then. What's she doing here with henchmen and a truck?

"Crow." From behind me. I don't look; it's not hard to recognize my Dad's voice. Especially not when it's his Union voice. "Glad you could join us. Miss 'Sundancer' here was just explaining how we're all in _her_ territory now."

I guess that explains _that_.

I can't see her face, with her helmet and visor, but I _can_ tell she's looking past me. And I can tell when her focus shifts _back_ to me a moment later. When she rallies from my sudden appearance. "You're Crow?" I don't respond. Don't move. Just watch; one of her guys is tilting his head to one side. Barely noticeable, but it draws my attention to the little curl of clear plastic along his neck. "I'm not looking to start trouble with heroes."

Claiming a relief camp as your 'territory' in the aftermath of an Endbringer attack is a _really_ funny way of 'not looking for trouble'.

As the silence drags on, another of her guys shifts. His hand brushes his hip, dropping back. Armed? Probably safe to assume.

"The fact is, I have things these people need." She continues, sweeping a hand in front of her as her voice raises. "I can provide food and water! Clothes! Medicine! And I have men, workers, medical help. I can provide security against the gangs-"

"We're not exactly lacking in security." I cut her off...and she flinches back again. Which is strange. She seems almost _nervous_. Not nearly as confident as she's trying to sound...is that why her attempted speech there had been so stilted?

Something is wrong, here.

"We've got a doctor, too. And plenty of people willing to work." That much _should_ be obvious. "You're right in that we don't have as much as we need when it comes to supplies, though. Which makes me curious where _you_ came by it all." It's _my_ turn to raise my voice, then, as I work through that idea. As I reach the inevitable conclusion. "Where _exactly_ did you get all these things we need? Because I know the last time I found missing supplies, they were in a Merchant stash house."

She's on the back foot now. Why? I'm one Cape, I've argued _one_ point…

Why is she here alone?

Where did she get these supplies, and these men? Since when does a nomadic gang have access to that kind of thing?

Something's wrong.

I lift a hand, and wave it over my head. Maybe-armed guy turns out to _be_ armed, and a second later I'm staring down the barrel of a handgun. There's a dangerous _clack-clack_ behind me, along with a surge of similar noise as members of the crowd ready their own weapons. A miniature _star_ forms in the air between the Traveler and I.

And then Victoria craters the street, and it all just sort of...stops.

She straightens up, while everyone around us stares and starts to prostrate themselves...and I'll admit, I didn't fully grasp until just now what she'd been talking about when she described her aura's new effects. This is definitely disturbing to watch…

"So what's the deal?"

"Territory grab, or something. I didn't ask for details." I look around for a second or two, just...take it in. "This is...definitely one way to shut down a fight."

Victoria chuckles bitterly, shoving her hands in her pockets and lifting out of her crater. "I guess there's got to be _some_ benefit to this bullshit." She tosses her hair, looks down at the Traveler... _Sundancer_ , that's her name. "What now?"

"We make sure she gets the message that she's not welcome here." Because this is _our_ place. My Dad and his friends decided that. The people volunteering to help them decided that. And I said I'd help keep everyone here safe. So Villains trying to take over? Not going to happen. "Hang around for a second. I'm going to check the truck."

"Sure thing, boss." She snaps off a salute that I can only describe as 'sarcastic'. Lifts a little further into the air to start circling the downed villain.

With that taken care of-

-I open the truck's driver-side door. The man behind the wheel is as out of it as everyone else; I don't bother with gentle as I pull him out. He tumbles to the ground as I haul myself up and into the seat. Keys...there. I kill the engine, yank the keys, and check under the dashboard... _there's_ a lever. A quick tug, and the hood pops up a couple inches. Perfect.

I hop out, circle around, and climb up the bumper to shove the hood open. Belts are important...I grab the first one I see and yank it out of place. Slam the hood closed as I drop down again. Then it's around the back, and a quick vision enhancement to make sure there's nobody waiting in the bed with a gun or something. It's clear...but definitely not empty. I'm not about to check all these crates, but...damn.

Okay.

The driver is still face-down on the asphalt, but he doesn't resist when I grab him by the collar. In fact, he's still mobile, stumbling along behind me as I drag him over to the rest of his friends. Interesting, but ultimately not important…

I pick up the dropped gun. Pull the slide until the bullets stop coming out, then fumble the clip out to make sure it's empty. Of course, then all those bullets are on the ground around me, which...isn't what I need. Great. So I have to pick _those_ up-

"That was _almost_ smooth."

"Shut up."

Bullets go in my pocket, gun _looks_ like it's ready to fire...shit, right. I check the _rest_ of the mooks, and recover another two handguns. Those go on a table well past the line of armed Dockworkers.

Okay. _Now_ we're ready.

"Head back up? But be ready to take Sundancer if I teleport out."

Victoria eyes me up, for a second, before nodding. "Be careful, okay?"

Yeah. Sure. Careful.

She flies straight up, light receding after her. It doesn't take long for the stupor to start clearing, for people to start pulling themselves together. Sundancer, for her part, shakes it off with a sharp head-shake, staggering upright-

-and getting a very good look at the gun I have pointed at her head.

She goes still. The guys behind her, also recovering, try to reach for their own weapons, only to find them gone. I eye them pointedly, point at the ground with my free hand. They kneel, cooperatively.

Good so far.

"You're not going to shoot me."

"Believe me when I say that I will." It's a lie, for the most part; there's a reason I emptied the gun. But my Dad is sitting in a wheelchair behind me. And it's an uncomfortable fact that I killed the last person to try and hurt him. It makes it easier to _sell_ the lie. She seems to be buying it. "Walk away. Don't come back."

She doesn't move, but there's the faintest tremble in her shoulders. And her voice is pitched low, almost plaintive when she does finally speak. "I'm trying to help you people."

It _almost_ makes me feel bad about this. But then I glance past her at the formerly armed mooks, and I think about the fucking _sun_ she was ready to throw at a bunch of civilians, and that feeling goes away. "You're trying to profit from our home dying." I thumb back the pistol's hammer. Purely dramatics, I do actually know that, but it _feels_ good. "You don't get to do that. Now walk away."

She glances back at her men. Up into the sky, where I'm sure Victoria is still visible. Back to me...

And she takes a step back. When I don't pull the trigger, she takes another. She motions for her henches to stand, and soon enough they're _all_ edging back...one goes for the truck's door, and I click my tongue, wave him away with the gun. "That stays. You _walk_."

Sundancer's hands are clenched into fists, shaking slightly. Angry? No doubt. But instead of saying something, instead of attacking, she turns her back on me. Apparently dismissive, as she stalks toward the nearest alleyway. The henches follow after, though one of _them_ keeps an eye on me the entire time.

I stand there, keeping an eye on the street. Listening to people shifting behind me. The occasional awkward cough...how long is a good amount of time to wait, here? Just to be sure they're actually gone? Ehh...it'd be hard for them to sneak up on us, by now. Right?

I flip the gun so I'm holding it by the barrel, turn to look...wow, okay. The crowd seems much... _more_ , at this level. And everyone is watching me. Okay. I focus on the camp's de facto leader, since my Dad is busy glaring down the street past me. "So...that's a problem."

That gets a subdued laugh from the people close enough to hear me. And the doctor almost manages a smile, himself. "Yes, it is."

I'm not sure what I can add to that, what sort of assurances I might be able to offer. Rolling out of bed to deal with this...villain territory grabs. Are they going to try again? Get violent? Is there some kind of precedence for this sort of thing, after Endbringers?

"You'll probably want to report this to the Protectorate, if you can." I shrug, and pad over to Dad's side. It draws his attention, and he reaches out to take the handgun as I offer it over. "For now...you have a truck full of supplies to figure out what you're going to do with."

"We'll get it unloaded." Dad speaks up, eying the gun. The handful of loose ammunition I offer over a moment later gets a raised brow, but he doesn't let it distract him. "Haywood, your boys can work out what we'll need…" Next, I jingle the truck's keys meaningfully, before dropping them in his lap. "...and any extra should be easy enough to pass along."

"Not a bad plan." Dr. Haywood's delivery is painfully dry, and I offer another sheepish shrug. He watches me for another moment, but then (thankfully) turns his attention to the nearest volunteer. "So what, exactly, are you all waiting for?"

That gets people moving. Dad included, though he shoots me a look that says we'll be talking later, as he rolls himself off to the tents.

"And Crow?" The doctor lowers his voice, shooting a wary glance upward. "As much as I'm sure we all appreciate your assistance, I think I speak for a few of our people here when I say we'd probably prefer if your friend...keeps her distance?"

Right. Of course. I have to fight down a sudden surge of _irritation_ , because that's...it's fair. No, not fair. Understandable. "We'll keep it in mind."

Maybe there was a bit more venom in it than I'd hoped, because he's quick to avert his eyes. And when he doesn't volunteer anything else, I decide I'd rather _not_ hang around. I sweep away, going only a couple of feet before-

-stepping up onto the rooftops.

What a morning. Evening. "You'd think I'd at least have the chance for breakfast, first."

"Yeah, reality's kinda harsh like that."

Well, Victoria wasted no time sneaking up on me. Which is particularly impressive, seeing as she's a walking _floodlight_ now. I turn to face her, pretending I _didn't_ just about jump out of my skin. Her grin tells me she's not buying it at all. "Nobody'd complain if I just went back to bed, would they?"

"Ehh." She waggles a hand, drops down beside me. "It'd be kind of a waste. Now we've got the whole night ahead of us." Just the thought makes my head hurt. "But hey, before we get into _that_ , can we talk about that thing you just pulled? Because I'm really curious which action movie you got it from."

I flush. "That wasn't from an _action movie_."

"Oh come on." She scoffs, rolls her eyes. "There's no way that was all off the top of your head." I edge back as she leans in, her grin edging on a leer. " _You_ spend your weekends coming up with that stuff, don't you? 'Oh, what if I have to threaten somebody with their own gun, well I'll probably empty it out all cool and bluff like a boss for extra style points'. _Please_."

I…

"...so I'm going to find some breakfast."

"Oh, yeah, I can go for breakfast...are there waffles? Do you know where we can get waffles?"

Waffles?

That actually _does_ sound good.

"I guess we'll have to find out."

" _Awesome_."


	45. Chapter 38

We don't actually find any waffles, unfortunately. It's too late to really go digging, so we have to settle for a couple of MREs from Lady Photon's relief camp. Victoria borrows my phone again, sits on the edge of a rooftop far enough away to avoid any adverse effects on the people below but close enough that she can at least _see_ her family.

And okay, maybe I doze a bit, propped against silent duct-work. It's not like I had any clear plans for tonight, to begin with. I don't mind hanging around for a little bit...especially not after Amy'd made the comment about sleep deprivation. Maybe I hadn't been so appreciative of it yester- no, earlier today. But then, I'd also slept a little bit since then. Reminded myself that I do actually like it…

"Hey, up and at'em."

I shift, perk up, but apparently not enough to avoid a shoe in my ribs. I shove Victoria away with a huff, refuse to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her grin. "How are things? Everything okay down there?"

"No trouble." I fumble my phone as she drops it in my lap. "I let Aunt Sarah know what happened, she said she'd keep an eye out for the Travelers but also that 'there isn't much more we can do' and it's probably best to stay settled in."

She doesn't sound fond of the idea. And, I admit to myself as I stand, I don't really like it, myself. Still, "It isn't bad advice."

Victoria shrugs. "You gotta know what I'm thinking."

Close enough to guess, anyway. I sigh, roll my shoulders to work out some of the tension from sleeping sitting up. "Where do we start?"

"I'm thinking we go back and check out the truck."

Makes sense to me.

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

I'm the one to actually do the investigating, mostly because the truck has been pulled further into the camp (and thus, closer to people Victoria could accidentally Master). There isn't much to find; the cab is clean, the glove compartment empty. The back has been cleared out, and there's nothing _apparently_ unusual about it.

I feel like kicking myself when I realize I have more options than poking around playing junior detective.

Back into the cab...I pull out the Heart. Just...hold it, for a moment or two.

"Tattletale?"

" _It's good to be remembered."_

"I'm starting to think there's a reason I keep avoiding this."

" _There are so many different ways to deal with guilt."_

I close my eyes, just count off a couple of breaths before taking another look around the cab. "Can you tell me anything about the people who were driving this truck?"

The Heart is quiet, but for its steady pulse. I get a flash of a smile, only inches from my face; startling. Bitter.

" _I can tell you everything about these men. I can recite records and files, compiled with great care in utter secret. Observed movements...actions taken...I can tell you so much, Taylor."_ Another flash, further back. A ghostly figure leaning away from me. " _I could have told you_ _before_ _I died. I'd already done all my research, after all."_

" _These are Coil's men._ "

Coil. That sparks a memory.

"Armsmaster…" It seems like forever ago, "he mentioned Coil. Asked if I had any connections to him." More than that though. "He said you'd confessed to working for him-" Oh. _Oh_.

"' _Under duress' I think, were his exact words."_

They had been. "And then Coil had you attacked."

" _Drugged to the gills. I would have been dead in a couple of weeks. But it did get me shipped off to a hospital. And who expects someone to go after a burned asset in an anonymous ambulance?"_

Fuck. _Fuck_ , and the Outsider had even _told_ me. "The Bone Tinker was working for Coil."

" _Very_ _good. See, Taylor? I knew you were sharp. You hardly even need me, don't you? Neither did Coil, really. But I'm so_ _useful_ _, you know?"_

I feel sick. "The Heart was a request."

" _A commission. One quality Thinker, upgraded by extradimensional weirdness and excised of all that troublesome 'free will'."_ A pause, a flash, Tattletale shrugging thoughtlessly. " _Only mostly a success."_

I slump back in the driver's seat, close my eyes. _My fault_. It seems almost painfully obvious now, the connections, the cryptic clues. I'd just...I hadn't bothered to question it. I'd just _let it lie_ , too focused on personal problems, on my powers, on the Tinker. All it would have taken was a couple of questions, or actually...if I'd stayed and _talked_ to Armsmaster. Instead of leaving to keep from...what, being questioned? He figured me out anyway, apparently. What was the point?

What _is_ the point?

"I'm sorry."

Tattletale sighs. " _I know, Taylor. But it's not_ _all_ _bad. Death sucks; it's cold, and painful, and sometimes there's too much to see. But I think we can agree that Something is better than Nothing."_

I don't know what to say to that. So I settle for, "I'm going to stop him."

" _Because he went after your Dad?"_

Yes. But more than that. Coil backed a killer, gave him what he needed to get away with so much. And apparently he's supporting _other_ villains, too. Organizing them? It doesn't matter. Whatever he's doing, or planning, isn't important.

"It's the right thing to do."

Tattletale doesn't respond. I don't wait for one, tucking the Heart away again.

I need to talk to Victoria about this.

* * *

 _ **xxxxxxxxxx**_

* * *

"...this is some conspiracy theory bullshit."

"No kidding."

Victoria makes a frustrated noise, dragging her hands over her face. "No, you don't get it. This used to be simple, right? Just go out, find the bad guy, break their face. Job _done_. But now everything's outsiders and Endbringers and...and _murder_ conspiracies? _What_?"

I'm not exactly blind to the implications, there. "Should I be apologizing?"

"That's _not_ what I'm saying, Taylor."

It kind of feels that way. But whatever. "It gives us a goal, at least."

"Hard to be bored when you're hunting down a criminal mastermind, huh?" She gripes, glaring sullenly out over the street before shaking herself out. Kicking off into the air. "So putting aside basically everything that's wrong with this situation...does Tattle-ghost have anything for us to go on? Or are we just going to mull around looking for guys in suspicious turtlenecks?"

I really...hadn't been thinking that far ahead yet. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised that Victoria doesn't want to wait. In this case, she's probably got the right of it. So...the Heart. What do we need if we want Coil?

" _I have a few ideas, but...you may not appreciate them."_

And doesn't that just fill me with hope. "What can we do?"

" _Visit Redmond Welding. And try not to break anything important."_

Well, it's better than nothing. "I've got a location...sort of."

"Sort of?"

I shrug. "Do you know where we can find 'Redmond Welding'?"

She considers that, for a few seconds. "I...know where we can find a yellow-pages?"

Close enough.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

Redmond Welding turns out to be a not-so-abandoned factory building. Still mostly intact, all its doors still in place, a few boarded over windows. And someone pacing upstairs.

I've got a sinking feeling I know who I'm here to talk to.

"Are you sure about this?"

"You're the one who suggested I ask Tattletale." I pull a baton, the Heart in my other hand. "If there's any trouble, I'll jump back here."

Victoria sighs, glaring at the building. "I get that you need to talk to people to get information, but I don't like all this 'hang back' talk."

Which is fair. "I'll try to make it quick." It's the best I can offer. Not particularly reassuring, no matter how you look at it...I turn away, step off the roof-

-and drop to the street.

"How do I do this without starting a fight?"

" _I can't help you with_ _everything_ _, Taylor."_

Great. So...how do I make a peaceful approach to a villain? In their base? When they may or may not be in costume?

Dammit.

Okay, first, I need to get inside. Easy enough; I teleport just past the nearest door. Empty space, broken down machinery. A rusted staircase leading up to a loft area. I move-

-to the top of _that_ , so I can approach the door without any clanking or rattling.

Deep breath. I reach up, and knock three times with my baton. Watch the man inside freeze.

I open with what I _hope_ will be my in. "Tattletale sent me!" And now, to follow it up, what I hope will be taken as a peace offering. "I'll give you a minute to find a mask! But then we need to talk!" And there it is. Clear, concise, hopefully non-threatening. After a few more seconds of stillness, the guy turns and moves toward the center of the loft, picking something up and securing it over his head.

As if I needed more confirmation.

The door opens, and I let it bang against the nearest wall. Make no effort at staying quiet, as I move into the light.

There's Grue. Only half his motorcycle leathers on, his helmet only just starting to smoke. I don't need to see his face to feel his anger at my being here. It's practically radiating off him. " _Crow_."

"I'm going to cut right to the chase." Because the less time I spend here, the less time there is for me to say something wrong and provoke a fight. "Your boss, Coil? He needs to be stopped."

"...you'll have to forgive me if we have differing views on that."

Seriously?

" _He doesn't know. He's worked hard to get what he needs; looking too deep wouldn't have been helpful."_

I don't care about his reasons. The point stands. "Tattletale knew about a Tinker who was killing people for materials. Did she ever tell you about him?" No response. "Coil backed him. I don't know the details, but I _do_ know he gave him men, maybe resources, definitely helped him relocate when we were after him."

Grue's arms tense, his fists clenching. "Tinkers are valuable."

"Valuable enough to enable serial murder?" No response. "Enough to send people after a Cape's family?" _That_ snaps his attention more firmly to me. "He sent armed men to my home. I don't think I need to elaborate as to why. But from everything I've learned, that's got to be one of the only 'rules' you people actually care about."

No response. Just more of the same. Am I missing something?

" _You took a pretty sharp turn into 'confrontational' there. How about you tell him about me?"_

Fine. "I don't know what Coil's promised you, or any of the other people he's got working for him, but whatever he's got planned is nothing good...and his employee retention plan sucks." I wave the Heart a bit, don't miss the way Grue tenses just _that_ much more. "When Tattletale got caught-"

"When _you_ caught her."

I flinch. Because that one was still a sore point. "When I caught her...he sent someone to shut her up. Stole her out of PRT custody, and _gave_ her to the Tinker." I swallow, my mouth suddenly and inexplicably dry. "From what I saw, it wasn't a particularly clean death."

" _I'm over it. Mostly. It doesn't much compare to this."_

God, that's... _what_? I think I need to have another talk with her-

"You said Tattletale _sent_ you." I don't miss the way the darkness surges out around us, halfway to penning us in. But I also don't react, because...well, it won't exactly _stop_ me…

" _Here's the part where you give me to him."_

Seriously? "You think that'll help?"

" _Better than leaving it to_ _your_ _diplomatic ability."_ I stare down at the Heart, because _what_? " _Sorry sweetie, it's the truth."_ I...whatever. So apparently I'm bad at talking with people. That isn't news.

I hook my baton under my arm, holding out my free hand and starting forward. Grue holds his ground, watching _me_ , even when I hold the Heart out for him to take.

He does.

His attention shifts down to it.

"...Lisa?" Silence. The soft _pulse_ of the Heart is different, when I'm not the one holding it. "What the fuck? This isn't...how the fuck do you know that? What is this?" More silence. "And why should I trust…" I take a step back as he turns. And decide I'm glad I'd realized I _didn't_ need to talk out loud for Tattletale to 'hear' me. This kind of one sided conversation is unsettling to watch. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

He stalks off, the dark fog following after. I don't _think_ there's an exit over there, so he's probably not running. I guess...I'll just have to wait?

Looking around, the loft is nicer than my own housing right now. TV, kitchenette...the couch is comfortable. It takes a legitimate effort, after I've sat down, to move to the _less_ comfortable chair off to the side. Falling asleep in a villain's lair isn't high on my list of things to do tonight.

Minutes pass. Footsteps track back and forth in one of the other rooms. And then they're coming this way, and Grue returns. Without the ominous cloud surrounding him, this time.

"I can't help you."

...admittedly, that's about the response I was expecting, when I'd realized who I was here to see. "That's disappointing." I stand, make a show of stretching to hide the swaying. Shouldn't have sat down again. "I'm not exactly your biggest fan, but I wouldn't have expected you to _want_ to work for a complete psychopath."

"I'm going to let that slide, because I did punch you in the head one time. But I want you to think about why you're here, and then understand me when I say _I can't help you_."

He tosses the Heart back before I can respond. I catch it two-handed, because I actually have no idea how durable it is and _fuck_ him for just _tossing around_ his _teammate_.

" _That's cute. But don't worry, it'll take more than that to break my heart."_ I turn an incredulous look on the Heart, because...that was a pun? " _Let me have my fun...Grue here is right in that he can't help you._ _Actively_ _. But we had a little chat, and that's given me what you'll need."_

Right...I look back to Grue, who's already turned away to stare at a blank wall.

" _Best to just leave. Bitch will be showing up soon, and_ _she'll_ _be less interested in talking than he is."_

"Got it." I guess it's time to go then. "Grue...thanks for not trying to punch me again."

"Fuck off."

Fine, then. I turn away-

-and spot Victoria trailing slow circles in the air, in the middle of the rooftop. She perks up when she spots me, dropping to the gravel to jog over. "How did it go? Do we need to bust some heads?"

"I don't think so." Because I got _something_ , apparently. "Tattletale…?"

" _Territories. Locations. Grue won't tell us anything that could lead back to him. But he knows how I worked. And despite some new limitations, I_ _also_ _have more options, now."_ The Heart pulses, brightly, and I catch a smirk in the glowing afterimage of her momentary appearance. " _If you want Coil, you'll have to get to him through his underlings."_

His non-Undersider underlings, presumably. "We get him through the Travelers."

"Hey, sounds good to me." Victoria shrugs, eyes the Heart. "Do we have a place to start on that?"

I get the answer quickly enough. "Downtown. Ballistic's territory."

"And ground zero for Nazi civil war."

Yeah, that too. "It's more than we had before."

Victoria grins, slamming a fist into her palm. "I'm not _complaining_. Always up for punching some Nazis."

I can't help laughing, at that. I guess it's just good to know that...some things don't seem to change? "Hopefully we won't have to deal with that. One criminal organization at a time."

"Fine, fine...but I vote Nazis _after_ we take down this Coil creep."

"I can get behind that."

For now, we've got some investigating to do.


	46. Chapter 39

**A/N:** Almost forgot to add this, but A Change of Pace got it's first piece of fanart recently! You can probably spot it as the new cover-image of the story, but you should definitely check the version on DeviantArt so you'll see it... _not_ as a tiny, compressed thing. Link is on my profile!

* * *

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* * *

I do actually realize what we're doing, before we manage to get out of the docks. Victoria takes a minute to realize I've stopped, and barely half that to circle back. She's confused, obviously, which makes me feel a little better about being slow on the uptake.

"We're rushing off half-cocked again."

She stops, the question in her lips fading to silence. And then she smacks herself, groaning dramatically as understanding dawns. "Dammit, you're right." Suddenly she's glaring at me like it's _my_ fault. "So what are we gonna do?"

"I can't help but notice you're still putting _me_ in charge of the planning." She scoffs, and thanks to my mask I don't have to even _try_ to hide my smile. I don't answer immediately, turning my attention to...coat pockets. There's my phone, and I do seem to be getting service at the moment. So I just need...card. Shit, where's the card? I know I took it from Dad...probably should have just put the number _in_ the phone, but...no, wait, there it is.

Victoria rolls her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently as I dial. "Who are you calling?"

I don't answer her, seeing as I'm _on the phone_...when she snatches the card out of my hand anyway, I just focus on getting my mask out of the way so I can actually be _heard_ …

"Hello?" That...isn't Assault? It sounds very much like a woman, actually.

Awkward.

"This is Crow." I turn away from Victoria (who's busy giving me incredulous looks while shaking the card at me). "I wanted to talk to Assault, if he's...available." God, _that_ is...not a thought I want to be having. The dead silence on the other side of the line _isn't_ _helping_ , because it means I can hear the creak of springs and sleep-slurred 'what's going on?'. I let the phone drop for a second, press a hand to my face, and try to just...urgh. "I can call back, if now's a bad time."

"Kind of you." Lady-voice doesn't sound any more thrilled with the situation. Strangely enough, that does make me feel a little better. "But I'm sure he'd _hate_ to inconvenience you." There's a _smack_ that sounds distinctly like knuckles hitting flesh, and a sharp yelp. "Wake up. It's Crow." And then shifting, rustling, grumbled complaints…

"Crow! Good to hear from you again." If I didn't know better, I'd say he sounds wide-awake. The jaw-cracking yawn he lets out would have put lie to _that_ quick enough anyway. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

It takes me a second to remember, actually. Too busy trying to _not_ focus on things. And trying to ignore the business card that's slowly descending into my field of vision. "I didn't mean to wake you up. It can probably wait. Or you can pass me on to someone else-"

"Wouldn't think of it." He cuts me off, suddenly serious. "This is a 24/7 sort of job. Won't be the first time duty calls at-" A pause, as the phone shifts. "-wow, only one? Now I feel _old_." I'm not _entirely_ sure how to respond to that, but thankfully he doesn't wait for me. "What's going on?"

Where do I even start? Maybe by snatching the card away from Victoria, so she can stop dancing it in front of my face. And then, "You know about the Bone Tinker."

"Crazy killer, Tinker-Trump. Moved 'out of town' after the big E.B."

"He was being backed by Coil." Silence. "Coil provided security, manpower, and _materials_ in return for his 'tech'."

"...alright." More shifting. Footsteps, and an opening door. "Other than the serial murder, that seems like the kind of thing Coil does. Outsourcing."

That's certainly one word for it. "Is the Protectorate aware that the Travelers are making bids for territory in the city?"

Another pause. "This is the first _I've_ heard."

"I sent Sundancer packing, earlier today. She was at our camp with a truck full of supplies...and a group of Coil's men."

"...well. Well well... _well_. Hold on, I'm putting you on speaker." I'm...not sure _why_ he would do that, but sure? There's a clatter, and when his voice returns it's gone tinny. "How sure are you about this, kid?"

I debate, for a _brief_ moment, telling him about the Heart. But then, maybe that's something to ease into. At some point in the future. "As sure as I can be without having seen them shaking hands with the man."

"You _sound_ pretty sure, that's for sure." A door, opening and closing again. Rustling, creaking. "So, you're calling me because…?"

"I'm with Victoria." She circles around me, at that, shooting me an exaggerated ' _thank you_ ' look. "We got more information on the situation, and we were _going_ to go do something about this guy while we've still got some kind of initiative."

"Okay, that makes _some_ kind of- wait. Victoria? _Dallon_?"

I almost ask him why that's so surprising. And then I'm kicking myself, because _duh_. "I'm immune to her aura."

"Why are you guys talking about _me_?"

"You're _immune_." Quiet, and then what I can only assume is the sound of Assault picking up the phone again. "Just flat out, no effect?"

Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up. "Yes." But it really isn't important right now, all things considered. "Look, we've done this before. Gone off with just the two of us. It's worked out _poorly_."

Victoria pastes on a cheerful smile, leaning in and raising her voice. "I got shot!" When she spots the incredulous look I'm giving her, she just shrugs.

Which...okay, yes. "What she said."

"So, you're calling the Protectorate for backup?"

When he puts it that way, it makes my skin crawl. "I'm calling _you_ , because you helped me out. And my dad had good things to say."

"And is there a reason you're not taking this to New Wave?"

Why is he dancing around this? "I don't think what's _left_ of the team is going to want to touch this one." I look to Victoria, mouthing ' _sorry'_ under my breath. She shrugs. Maybe that's something we could talk about? "Look, I get that I'm coming out of nowhere with this, and it's asking a lot-"

"Nah, you're fine. Coil's always been more of a mystery than he should be. If you've got something to go on, I'm inclined to follow up on it." There's a _click_ of plastic, right beside the receiver. "And I mean, I'm already awake, and suited up...and no offense to either of you, but _somebody_ in this little party of yours should be a responsible adult."

For a brief moment, I consider sharing _that_ tidbit with Victoria. I'm sure she'd be more than willing to give him a punch in the mouth…

"Oh, speaking _of_...you two don't mind if Battery tags along, do you?"

"Battery?" A pointed look Victoria's way, but she just shrugs again. "I don't _think_ that would be a problem? If you're-" I was _about_ to say 'if he was willing to wake her up'. But then I get a sinking feeling of what his answer would be. "That sounds...fine. Yes."

"Okay then, we'll swing around and spoil a supervillain's night."

Seems that's in order then...I drop down to street level long enough to give him our location, pocket my phone once I'm back on the roof. That went well, I think?

"Since when are you and Assault bffs?"

"I'd hardly call us 'friends'." Victoria snickers. I huff, and pull my mask back down. "He just helped me get rid of a body."

She lets out what seems like a genuinely affronted gasp, and it's an actual struggle to stifle my laughter.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

Battery is the first to show, a flash of light and crackling static heralding her arrival. She spends a few seconds scanning the street before I draw her attention with a sharp whistle, and a wave. After another moment she returns the gesture, falling still a moment later. The pulsing lines on her costume take on a brighter glow...and then she _moves_.

Super speed _and_ strength, together? I don't think you can appreciate the combination properly until you watch someone scale a six story building in maybe four seconds.

I swallow down an inexplicably nervous feeling as she sticks her landing just barely out of arm's reach. Maybe not inexplicable. I haven't made the best impression with any of the Protectorate heroes I've met so far. Even Assault had to deal with 'bloodflies' right off the bat. So maybe I'd been a little worried on how to approach Battery, in this case.

I'd meant to offer up _some_ kind of greeting, maybe thank her for coming along. But standing in front of her, looking down in some vague attempt to appear attentive despite two layers of obscuring lenses between us...when I actually manage to find my voice, what comes out is, "Sorry for the wakeup call."

Her expression is unreadable, behind her visor. For the nth time tonight, I'm very glad that my mask offers the same benefit.

"...not a problem."

Aaand awkward silence. So much for making a good impression.

I turn my attention back to the street, fiddling with my cuffs for lack of anything better to do. Battery _continues_ to say nothing, as we wait. And then, _finally_ , Assault bounds into view. _He_ actually looks up when he's greeted by an empty street, and he barely misses a step, taking a sharp turn into the building across the street to throw himself shoulder-first into the wall.

It's another impressive showing, considering he was able to judge (or control?) the rebound closely enough to land at his partner's side. He bounces on his toes a couple of times, all smiles as he looks between us. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"Not long enough to worry about." I wave it off, because...well, it's not important. And this isn't really the time for smalltalk. "Now that you're here, we can move on this stuff."

"And we should definitely talk about all of that." Assault chimes in, _far_ too energetic for my tastes. Or Battery's, if her frown is anything to go by. "But first, I bring gifts. For your proximally-challenged friend." He produces _something_ out of nowhere, tossing it at me before I can really react…

Earbuds? They're bulky things, made to hook over the ear, but...right. Okay. I guess Victoria isn't the only one having trouble thinking around her new issues. "I didn't consider radios."

"Well, you should be glad I'm so good at what I do."

Right. "I _was_ planning to thank you." I let that hang for a second before turning away-

-and stepping around the corner of an impressively large AC unit. Victoria perks up at my approach, grins when I offer up one of the earbuds.

"Nice." She plucks it out of my hand, combing her hair back to slip it on. "Kind of sick of being out of the loop, here."

I sigh, pulling my mask up just enough to get at my own ear. "Maybe they'll let us keep them? I'm sure we could rig something up easily enough." If nothing else, I could probably Tinker something together...it takes me a second to actually get the thing on, but once I do it fits just fine under everything. Although, "Are they working?"

"That's a big '10-4' my corvid conspirator." Oh, okay. That's going to take a little getting used to. "And I'm kind of assuming we're not on any kind of private channel."

Assault wastes no time in confirming that. "Sorry kids. You'll just have to deal with nosy adults for a little longer." Victoria rolls her eyes, smirking as she mimes 'blah blah blah' at me. "The good news is, these little gadgets go missing all the time! I doubt a couple more will bother anyone."

"Could you _not_ talk about misappropriation of government property right in front of me?" Battery. I offer Victoria a quick wave-

-before dropping in front of them again. And despite the moment of surprise at my sudden appearance, they're both smiling. So not actual complaints then. Still, "Let's talk about Coil, then."

Battery sobers, while Assault nods agreeably and waves vaguely in my direction. "You seem to be our expert on the subject. What are we getting into?"

...right, because I'd invited them. Presumably, with a plan in mind. I hadn't really thought about it in those terms, but now that I am I'm wondering if this was the best idea. Not that it matters, since they're _here_ now. "We don't have a solid plan, yet. What we _do_ know is that our first weak-link is Ballistic. He's set up his territory downtown, which means he's penned in by what's left of the Empire."

"Which presents more difficulties than advantages, if you mean to go after him." Battery crosses her arms, frowning thoughtfully. "That's a three-way war waiting to happen. If you start something…"

"It's a problem." At best, we piss off all three groups. At worst, we set things off early. But, "We've got a few options. I'm okay at getting into places without being noticed. Victoria's powers mean she can shut down a big fight-"

"As long as they take it outside."

She manages not to sound _too_ bitter, which is good (I think), but I don't draw attention to it. "As long as they're in the open, yeah. With you two here, we've got more power and experience on our side. So...we just need to work something out."

"Alright." Assault grins, clapping his hands together. "Jam session. Let's do this."

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

'This' went from hashing out our limited options to actual reconnaissance much faster than expected. And then, as the _exact_ nature of our situation becomes clear…

"For those of us just joining us: yes, this is our luck."

Thank you, Victoria. I take a deep breath, clench my fists just to feel my gloves creak. "This _is_ a setback." Which is kind of an understatement. Considering the building that _should_ be Ballistic's is swarming with armed men. No few of which are sporting distinctive, wolf face-paint.

"The Chosen work fast." Assault sighs. "Bringing blitzkrieg back..."

Battery shakes her head, arms crossed as she considers the scene below. "The front entrance could easily be Hookwolf's work. Stormtiger too, if he put some effort in." Considering it looks like someone made a concentrated effort to take down that entire section of wall, I tack the two of them onto my mental list of 'Capes not to screw with directly'. "If either of them are still here and we draw their attention, this could turn messy."

"No telling if our guy is still kicking, either. Whatever might have gone down, here?" Assault shakes his head, waving at the men milling around down below. "Over and done with. This is cleanup."

All good points. But I think it's fair to say I _hate_ the idea of leaving things at that. So I won't.

"I'm going to go have a look." I run my hand over the Charms on my belt, chewing my lip. Everything but the anti-stealth...so long as I take things slow, don't take any chances, I should be fine getting a little closer. "I'll make it quick."

Battery looks ready to say something, but Assault waves her off. Offers me an approving nod. "We'll be here. If you run into trouble, we can draw as much attention outside as we can."

"And then _I_ can mop them up. Y'know. If it comes to that."

I really appreciate the vote of confidence...but I guess it really is good to know I'll have backup. _If_ I end up needing it. "Let me know if anyone terrifying shows up." That said, I move from _our_ rooftop-

-to the top of what was _once_ Ballistic's hideout. It's not a small place; ten stories, at least, and big enough I can only see a part of the floors beneath me. But what I _do_ see is actually kind of encouraging. In a way. For all that the gang seems to have occupied the place, it looks like they're sticking to the lower floors. Whether that's going to _continue_ to be the case I don't know, but, well, gift horse.

I move down a level, scanning the room I'd wound up in for any trouble. Nothing but an empty apartment and a closed door. So, I'm probably safe taking a minute to consult my…'informant'.

" _Reduced to tour guide? Haven't I suffered enough?"_

Alright, I may not be the most socially aware, but passive aggressiveness like that I am _uncomfortably_ familiar with. And I'd really appreciate if we could focus on more important things, for the moment. Like what the hell is going on here?

" _Ballistic must have done something to make himself into a target. An actual target, not just the kind of thing you say you'll get around to, eventually."_

I'd picked up on that much, actually. Though I'll admit I wouldn't have expected something like _this_ so soon. It hasn't even been a day yet, since Sundancer made her move. Assuming they're all operating on a similar time-table, he'd have had hours, maybe.

" _He's not the diplomatic type. As might be evidenced by some of that damage out on the street."_ What? " _Not all of it was Hookwolf."_

Okay. So, Ballistic brings the Nazi's down on himself, fights back...is he dead?

" _Mmm...could be. Nothing outside to indicate he got blended, but that doesn't mean much. You might actually have to_ _investigate_ _something."_

I can take a hint...though it would help if I could start with wherever Ballistic was staying. Or some place he would have kept...I don't know, important documents? A computer, maybe?

" _Alright...let me try something."_

"Well that's not ominous at _all_." But Tattletale doesn't say anything more. And after a few more seconds of nothing, my Mark _flares_. It's just a moment, just a _tug_ on my powers. Not even enough to compare with a teleport. But it's enough to be noticeable. Enough for me to make a connection between that feeling and the faint light that seems to be hovering somewhere below me, as it buzzes and pulses in time with the Heart. "Just follow the pretty lights, huh?"

"Uh, Crow? We can absolutely hear you."

I sigh, and start for the door. "Thanks, Victoria."

"No problem."

"After you're done with your harrowing infiltration, remind me to teach you how to switch the headset on and off."

And thank you _Assault..._ Battery hushes him, there's quiet again, and my appreciation for her raises just a little bit. But I'm letting all of this distract me. I need to go down...two floors? At least that.

I move.

There are people, now. Men, moving things out...five of them on the same floor as my goal, but, thankfully, they seem focused on the opposite side of the building. Not an opportunity to ignore, I focus on what I'm _assuming_ will be an empty space-

-and here I am. The humming glow vanishes in a flicker...it's another apartment. A bedroom, specifically. Unmade bed...a bodysuit, tossed over a chair. But no sign of a mask or helmet…

" _The attack was unexpected...but the damage was mostly on the ground floor. Hookwolf called him out. It was a challenge, not an ambush."_

Interesting, but not particularly useful at the moment-

" _Au contraire. It speaks to Hookwolf's attitude."_

Which _is_ useful. But not at _this_ moment. "We need something on _Coil_ …" I move to the bed, drop to the floor to check underneath. Nothing...I refresh my vision as it goes out, again, then hit the closet. Women's clothes. Either Ballistic has some weird habits, or he just moved in and didn't bother to move the previous owner _out_. But there's nothing stashed _in_ the clothes. Nothing tucked away in any dark corners.

Dresser? _There_ are his clothes...I dig through them, checking pockets, shaking out shirts, going so far as to pull the drawers entirely to check underneath.

Nothing. So I pick up the Heart again. " _You could check another room?_ " She says that like she _doesn't_ know. Which...I don't actually know whether that's believable or not. I don't know how her powers worked before all of this, let alone how they've changed. " _Oh, it's a long, strange story. But having you search this place_ _was_ _helpful. Now I'm that much more justified in assuming he doesn't have anything important here."_

I take a long, deep breath. Keep my grip light and loose. "Less than helpful."

"No luck, yet?"

Battery. I take another calming breath, sigh, and turn away from the mess I'd made of the dresser. "Nothing in his apartment. I can probably dig a little deeper, but if I move further down I'm going to have to start dodging skinheads."

" _They're stripping the place bare, anyway. Grabbing up anything that seems useful...the conquering army taking their spoils…"_

Victoria's disbelieving snort draws my attention before I can do more than wonder at Tattletale's tone. "Didn't you clear out, like, two different gang hideouts in as many weeks?"

"I mean-" Yes, I'd done that. Sort of. "There were less of them. And I only cleared out one. The other emptied out before I'd finished."

" _Oh...oh, okay, hold on. Question, for Assault."_

I frown, listen for a moment...but I guess it can't hurt to ask? "Assault? There _are_ a lot of guys here. How are the Chosen recruiting?"

"A lot of the unpowered muscle from the Empire went to them, after the split. From what _I_ know, it seems like they run regular fights to test their members and initiate newcomers."

" _Survival of the fittest? Or something like it. Okay, potentially some good news there."_ Good news? " _Ballistic_ _might_ _still be alive?"_ And that's based on the way the Chosen are initiating members. " _Hookwolf recruits based on how well people can fight. He's building an army. He challenged a rival, sacked his holdings...maybe he took a few 'slaves' back to play gladiator."_

That's...that's pretty twisted. Even for a violent Nazi. "How sure-?" _Not_ out loud, "Nevermind." But really?

" _I could be wrong. If you can confirm he didn't get killed here, I might be able to give you a better answer."_

If I confirm he wasn't killed, then I'll already _know_ he's still alive. But...yeah, okay, I can kind of see her point. So I'll just have to get some proof one way or the other. And while I could try and sneak downstairs, slip past all the armed Nazis in the hopes of finding (or not finding?) some mutilated remains or something…

"Guys, if you want to take a minute to get ready, I think I'm going to pick someone up so we can have a chat about what happened here, earlier."

" _Nice to see you having fun again."_

Fuck it. Maybe I am.

* * *

 ** _xxxxxxxxxx_**

* * *

I pick a thug at random, one I don't think will be missed...Battery disarms him the moment we hit the rooftop, Assault knocks him to the gravel hard enough that I can feel it through my boots, but the guy isn't any worse off than 'stunned'.

The way he visibly pales at the sight of us crowding over him _is_ pretty funny, in a sad sort of way. "Special delivery."

"Hopefully," Battery growls, static sparkling across her knuckles, " _this_ one will actually know something useful."

"Oh, shit, she's a badass. Heheh...hope you're taking notes, Crow."

Yes, thank you _again_ , Victoria…

He does talk, though. Eagerly. And it's good to know that our lead hasn't been cut off entirely. But god, I could do without the mental image of Tattletale's smug smirk…

"Well, it looks like we've hit a snag." Assault sighs, watching with apparent interest as Battery manhandles the Chosen thug into a set of plastic cuffs. "I may be pretty good, and I guess you've all got your own merits, but ready to take on an entire gang, we are not."

"Wow. With that kind of dedication, you're surely a credit to your entire organization."

"Would you listen to these kids? I take precious time out of _my_ night to help, and all I get is lip."

I clear my throat, hopefully cutting them off before they can _really_ get started. "It's another setback. But I don't think we're out of this yet." Maybe. Because what just occurred to me is...I'm not sure what it is. Stupid, maybe. Probably reckless. Still...I shake my head, drum my fingers on a holstered baton as I consider.

"Assault...what do you know about the Pure?"


End file.
